Knight in the Woods
by Marte50
Summary: Skeletal remains found at SCA medieval camping event connect to Brennan's past in foster care. Includes post traumatic stress for Brennan and abusive childhood trauma for Booth. Therapeutic fluff is better than psychology! endS3-midS4
1. Chapter 1

A/N: While in search of a place to set up B&B for a little romance and conflict resolution, I came up with a weekend SCA camping event to start off the case of the day. To understand the context of the story and later developments, I've tried to provide a glimpse into the world of this medieval historical group and some of its popular activities.

This is not AU (although a little OOC for Brennan) but uses a missing person case from Brennan's past, the issue of PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder) to explore the consequences of the end of Season 3 and Booth's revelation about his alcoholic father.

Disclaimer: The usual - don't own Bones etc, everything is fictional and any similarity to real persons is accidental...

* * *

Knight in the Woods

Chapter 1

At first glance, the Maryland valley campground looked ordinary enough on that Friday afternoon in July. A few tents and trailers had just arrived and were now surrounded by people setting up as quickly as possible so they could all get on with their weekend camping adventure. On closer inspection, the tents and enclosures were a lot more decorative and colourful than one might normally see at your local national park or KOA. By sundown that day, the site's sea of tents would look like an encampment right out of a King Arthur or Robin Hood movie.

They were all participants in a "Society for Creative Anachronism" event that had been held at the same place and date for over 20 years. The SCA had been the result of a medieval history student's graduation party in mid-1960's California. The group offered the unique experience of a life parallel to their own "mundane" existence within the quasi-medieval society based on pre-17th century Western culture. It was a welcome distraction for many and a lot of fun besides.

People wearing mostly (and not quite so) authentic medieval costumes greeted each other with bows, curtsies and gallant kisses on the hand. They had all gathered together to enjoy the fresh air and to wage a little harmless war. No one was exactly sure what the war was about but there was a rumour that the Queen's garden gnome had been kidnapped forcing the King to put out a call to fill the war chest with more chocolate chip cookies. As the unofficial 'coin of the realm", the cookies were needed for all manner of 'bribes' and securing the services of mercenary fighters.

Many would "die" this weekend, possibly more than once, but warriors all would find their way to some refreshment as they congratulated each other on battles well fought and to tel the ubiquitous "no shit there I was, that rhino-hiding bastard took 6 hacks from my halberd before he gave up a leg" type stories.

For one long-forgotten fallen warrior, the time had come to finally return to the world of harsh realities and the memory of past glories.

* * *

"Alaric, I know we haven't seen each other since Twelfth Night, but slow down," the attractive young girl said with a giggle and a toss of her long blond hair.

She grasped the hand of her eager companion and used her other hand to keep a firm grip on her long skirts to keep from tripping. Taking advantage of the hot and sunny afternoon, he pulled her along the narrow path through the thick woods a few minutes walk away from the campground. He hoped his camp mates would forgive his absence from the work of setting up their tents and pulling some long awaited lunch together.

"There's a nice spot over there, Elanna," he said looking back at her reassuringly and pointed in the direction they were now going. They had just left the security of the well-travelled path to cut through the woods to a sheltered little meadow visible in the distance through the trees

When they emerged from the tangle of bush, Alaric chose a grassy spot, sat down and pulled the girl down on top of him for a kiss. The thought occurred to him that he should have brought a blanket or his cloak to lay on. Elanna giggled between kisses while the low neckline of her dress threatened to release its captives to his delight.

One of the attractions Alaric enjoyed about the SCA was the great variety of alluring and often revealing fashions that were considered acceptable attire for many women. He had seen everything from the form-revealing (despite being covered head to toe) dresses suitable for presentation at Court, almost not there belly dancer costumes and even Xena the warrior princess style studded leather outfits. Authenticity mavens probably frowned on Xena fashions but he didn't care if it was easy to look at. The low cut peasant wench costume like the one worn by the young woman presently occupying his attention was definitely one of his favorites.

Elanna shifted to find a more comfortable position and reached into the grass to lift herself up off Alaric's chest. Alaric gazed into her eyes and thought that his usual bad luck with the opposite sex was about to change for the better. To his dismay, he saw her flushed face change from a teasing smile to apprehensive puzzlement. Her hand had inadvertently made contact with a odd object in the tall thatch. She raised her hand to inspect what she held.

Alaric's shocked consciousness registered two screaming voices, one of which he recognized with a moment's delay as his own. His eyes focused on the object in Elanna's hand. Held with her fingers through the eye sockets was a very real human skull, soon to be unceremoniously dumped on the ground.

* * *

Two hours later, the secluded meadow and site of the interrupted tryst now contained a kneeling Brennan examining the remains. On the nearby path, gathered a small crowd that included the local police, the two young discoverers of the remains and Booth. The remote location and the thick woods had so far kept most curious onlookers from the campground from getting too close to the find. With a bit of luck, most were still occupied with setting up their campsites and had not yet heard the news other than knowing something was up considering it is hard to hide a couple of police cars and other official looking vehicles.

After a few minutes, Booth approached Brennan in case she had anything yet to report. He was careful to keep his distance lest he hear the expected reprimand for treading too close to and probably right on evidence.

Brennan looked up at him as he came closer and made him wait a couple of minutes more before she said, "This appears to be a male, 25-35 years of age clothed in what appears to be SCA armour for a heavy fighter with some pieces missing. He has probably been here for about 15 - 20 years."

Booth noticed an odd expression of sadness on her face as she gave her assessment. He usually heard only dry clinical appraisals of the scenes he and his partner attended.

"Bones, what's wrong?" Booth asked, becoming concerned by her reaction. For the past few months ever since the fake funeral incident and Zach's betrayal as Gormogon's apprentice, their personal relationship had been a little rocky even though work continued as efficiently as ever.

Booth had been hoping they could regain their former level of trust, but he knew he had to take things slow. Things were better than they were at first, but there were still some awkward moments. He had become increasingly concerned about her though after he noticed that Bones would occasionally look off into space for a couple of minutes, and then look up at him as if reassuring herself that he was there. To cover up her moment of inattention, she would start up a conversation repeating some point of their case at the time.

He was fairly certain that she was experiencing flashbacks. In the space of a few short weeks, she had dealt with her father's trial for murdering Booth's boss and acquittal, Booth's shooting, the death of his assailant by her own hand at the scene, the trauma of his faked death and his subsequent resurrection. The situation with Zach was just one more source of pain and even for one as 'compartmentalized" as his partner, that would be some roller coaster ride of emotions for anyone.

He knew she reacted differently to a lot of things but he had more experience than he wished when it came to triggered memories. He had his own set of painful memory loops full of scenes of torture and death of those he had been powerless to protect that appeared out of nowhere occasionally. Although mostly on sleepless nights and less often now, they still happened when he was overly stressed or tired. He had once been treated for PTSD in his own military past and knew how to recognize the signs and triggers. The worst part was that with every fugue state he believed he saw in Brennan's behaviour, he cringed inside with a burden of guilt knowing he was mostly to blame.

He should have found some way to tell her he was still alive but he had mistakenly trusted Sweets, their FBI assigned therapist, to follow his instructions to bring his closest family and friends in on the secret. He had, after all, been injured and everything had been set in motion before he had even awakened from surgery to remove the bullet in his shoulder. His recovery had been spent in protective custody while they set up the sting to help flush out a fugitive from an old case. All he could do now was berate himself and wished he had been able to find a secure way to let Bones know the truth. He would give anything to take away the obvious pain she had suffered (but still denied) during the two weeks he had been believed to be dead and apparently continued to suffer.

In a soft voice that seemed out of character for the strong willed woman Booth knew so well, she said," I think those two young people over there have found our missing knight."

"What missing knight, Bones and how do you know its ASC armour, anyway?" Booth asked, always puzzled and amazed at his partner's eclectic collection of knowledge and mused to himself that he should be used to that from Bones by now.

"That's S.C.A., Booth. Society for Creative Anachronism. It's a living history organization that uses Medieval and Renaissance history and society as a model for their own activities. You know, like the groups that recreate Civil War battles only the SCA doesn't usually recreate any particular battle. It has its own rules of conduct and customs with a feudal-style political structure based on a monarchy," Brennan explained. "You did notice we're near a campground with odd tents and unusually dressed people everywhere, didn't you?" She pointed to indicate their young witnesses waiting on the path nearby.

"In 1992, a man went missing from an SCA event held here on Memorial Day weekend. Nothing was ever found. Please Booth, I'll explain everything I know later. We have a unique opportunity while this event is on to find someone who can identify the armour here. We will also need to search the surrounding area for the missing pieces. So far, I've identified that he is missing his helm and left leg armour. He probably had a shield, as well. I'm going to be about an hour more here so why don't you go into the campground and see if you can find someone to help us identify what we have left," Brennan suggested and re-focused on her recovery tasks.

She glanced back and noticed Booth hadn't moved but was looking at her oddly. "Go on, Booth...what?..." Brennan asked impatiently, shooing him away with her hands.

Booth turned and chuckled quietly to himself. He knew he would have to wait patiently to learn how Bones knew so much about this group, a missing knight and, of all things, armour. He looked forward to hearing the rest of the story...there just had to be one... and she had better not wait too long.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Booth headed off towards the two young people to have his turn at getting their statements now that the local police appeared to be finished with them. After a short conversation, he requested their assistance in locating someone to help with their investigation as Bones had suggested. The three of them followed the wooded path towards the campground.

As they left the shade of the trees, Booth was surprised at the tent city, many embellished with banners and flags, that stretched along the length of the narrow valley. Many were still in various stages of assembly but it was still an impressive sight. In the short time they had been there, the campground had grown from a scattering of tents to more than a hundred other structures of all shapes and sizes.

After several enquiries, Alaric and Elanna passed Booth to an official-looking man who identified himself as the 'Autocrat'. He was evidently the head of the event's planning committee. After hearing Booth's request, he called over a young man in a Robin Hood like costume with the instructions to take him to Duke Sir Randolf or the King if either had arrived yet. Otherwise, he was to be taken to the Troll Booth at the campground's entrance to find the constable on duty. Meeting the King should be interesting and he was fairly certain they weren't referring to Elvis!

They made their way through the site, picking their way through the haphazard arrangement of tents, poles and ropes until they came to an open area with a collection of tents labeled by a handmade wooden sign as "Merchants Row".

There were a couple of stalls selling metalwork already set up to do business that ranged from table cutlery and daggers to fully articulated suits of armour. He admired the excellent craftsmanship and realized in this environment that these pieces weren't just decorative. Someone was meant to actually wear them. He wondered to himself if a full suit was as heavy as it was rumoured to have been. Of course, nowadays, there were so many light weight alternatives if they were allowed to use them.

After having identified himself and his purpose a dozen times and being passed off to a few more guides through the strange landscape surrounding him, he was finally brought before Duke Sir Randolf who was in the process of setting up his campsite. The man they had been seeking for almost an hour was an older stocky man in his mid-50's, with a mostly grey neatly trimmed beard with the bearing of one who was used to being in charge. A military background was unmistakable to Booth as a former soldier himself. Actually, the man before him reminded Booth of a drill sergeant he had in the army. His guide, having completed his task, disappeared after bowing to the Duke. Booth introduced himself and showed his ID badge one more time.

"Yes, my lord, how can I be of assistance to one of our Kingdom's special constabulary?" asked Duke Randolf. "I heard about the unfortunate discovery in the woods, of course. You know, we pride ourselves in following the strictest guidelines to ensure everyone's safety. Some injuries can occur, of course but someone left behind like that is unheard of."

"Well, umm, Duke Randolf, we don't yet know the circumstances in this situation. Since the remains are of a person who died wearing armour that connects them to your group, we wondered if you would return with me to assist in identifying the pieces found? It may be a great help towards identifying the remains," he explained. Booth was a little uncomfortable dealing with a man who seemed to prefer staying in character.

"Certainly, my lord, lead on," he replied cheerfully and chatted amiably as they wended their way back towards the line of trees at the far end of the valley. On the way, Booth was treated to a tour of the campground that included key locations that actually did follow a specific design only obvious once pointed out to him. He didn't yet understand what he was hearing but tried to make some notes on a small map of the campground the Duke had found for him.

As they approached one large decorative tent, identified as the Royal Pavilion, Booth noticed that even though no one was there, everyone who passed by the unoccupied throne chairs at a certain distance bowed or curtsied. This was explained to him as showing reverence to Their Majesties as a sign of respect for the Crown even when they were not present.

The Duke explained that Kings and Queens were chosen usually twice a year through a special tournament where the winner rules with his or her consort by right of arms. He launched into one story after another about noteworthy kings and even included the fact that there had been women fighters who had won the crown to become Queens in their own right to rule alongside their King Consorts.

The highest peerage titles were earned according to the number of reigns they had completed. After a King/Queen's first six-month term of rule, they were entitled to be addressed as Count/Countess and those who ruled twice or more times became Dukes/Duchesses. The Duke informed him that the current King and Queen were expected to attend the event but had not yet arrived.

The news of the discovery had, as expected, caused a sudden increase in traffic along the pathway through the woods and Booth hoped he wouldn't have to request more officers for crowd control or, in a worst case scenario, threaten to shut down the event.

Duke Randolf saw immediately the potential for trouble and told everyone in a booming voice to return to their own business. He called over two young men and instructed them to stand at the entrance to the path to forbid any unauthorized people to enter. The pathway did not connect to any other occupied area of the park so there was no reason but curiosity for people to be there. Booth hoped the two impromptu sentry guards didn't mind being pressed into duty. He remembered similar situations happening to him in his early military career but this was a civilian campground not a military field exercise.

As Booth and the Duke approached Brennan, she was evidently almost finished with her recovery of the remains. The pieces that she had indicated were part of SCA armour had been transferred to large collection boxes in anticipation of having someone look at them before they and the remains left for the Jeffersonian's lab.

"Bones, I found you someone to look at that armour for you," Booth said, turning towards the older man who followed behind him.

Before he could say anything else, Brennan responded by approaching them and said,"Duke Sir Randolf, it is a pleasure to meet you again, barring current circumstances, of course."

She gave Booth a quick uncertain look to gauge his surprise at her knowing this man. Brennan extended her hand and to Booth's surprise Duke Randolf gently held it in his and graciously kissed it instead of the expected handshake. In response, she bowed her head slightly as she was obviously not properly dressed to respond with a curtsy.

"Countess Amelia, it has been ages since we've seen you this close to a tourney or battle field," he said, with a jovial twinkle in his eye.

Brennan gave Booth another quick glance, then said,"It has been a very long time, your grace, since I answered to Countess Amelia. Please, I would prefer that you use my given name or just Brennan when I am at work like this."

"Certainly, my dear. Temperance, it is, then. You know how much I enjoy leaving mundane life outside the Troll Booth for as long as I can escape it," he responded.

"However, occasionally unavoidable. With your permission, sir?" Brennan asked and immediately received his unspoken but saddened assent, "Booth, this is Brig. General William Ripley."

"General, I had no idea..." Booth began before being cut off and even though he had been out of the Army for years, he fought the urge to salute. That had been so thoroughly engrained in him as to become second nature.

"Of course. Please, Agent Booth, I appreciate that you are unfamiliar with our little world here but it gives all of us the opportunity to be anyone we want for a short time. At least, within the parameters of the medieval period, that is." he explained, turning to Brennan. "So Temperance, how can I be of assistance to your investigation?"

"I can't be certain until the DNA results come back and we've had a chance to search missing persons files but it is possible that we may have found Sir Stephen. Are you familiar with any of his armour? His gauntlets and right leg armour are intact but his gambeson has almost completely rotted away leaving the buckles and some lacing gromets. We haven't recovered his helm or other leg armour, though. Are there any collections of photographs here that might have come from that time? If it's not him, it may be someone else from the same time frame," she said, as she drew him towards the various containers.

As Bones and the Duke/General conferred over the remains, Booth excused himself to return to his vehicle to wait for them to finish. It was obvious that Bones had been an active member of this group and knew more about the possible victim, even giving him a name. Remembering the royalty lesson he had just been given, he realised that the Duke had been King at least twice and...wait a minute...that would mean Bones had been a Queen once.

Booth let that thought sink in for a moment. Now that he knew, he wasn't really surprised. She was a natural and still had the bearing of a queen. Before Cam took over the administrative duties at the lab, Bones had most definitely ruled her environment. He hoped he could get her to talk about it. He could understand the attraction this kind of alternate lifestyle would have on a young woman like Bones especially with her background.

He mused to himself about whether or not, he could see himself interested in this kind of thing. He would have to wear costumes all of the time. Didn't medieval men wear tights? The costumes seemed a lot like a play he saw once. Nope, not for him. Booth men didn't wear tights!

The women did look nice...Booth shook his head with a grimace, made a mental appointment to not skip church this week and forced himself to concentrate on his paperwork. He hoped Bones would be finished soon.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

During the quiet trip back to Washington, Booth thought about what it must have been like for Bones during those first few years after she had lost her family. That must have been when she had become involved with this group to know about something that happened in 1992. He glanced over at his partner and wondered how to bring up the questions in his mind.

Brennan, not able to stand the silence any longer, said, "Come on, Booth. I can tell you're thinking that, for some reason, I should have told you about this before. Really, it's a lot like asking you what badges you collected in the Boy Scouts. It just never came up before."

"No, of course, not, but now that we have a case to solve and the subject has come up, it would help if I had some background information to work with," Booth said, trying unsuccessfully to dampen his curiosity.

"Alright, as I mentioned, a man went missing during the Memorial Day weekend event at that campground in May 1992. His name was Greg Winters from Chicago. In the SCA, he was known as Sir Stephen of Midlands. On Saturday afternoon following the last battle of the day, he was one of the fighters known to have been on the field but seemed to have disappeared. That's the last place anyone saw him. He didn't return to the campsite that he shared with others that evening, was not with friends elsewhere in camp nor was he seen on Monday when everyone packed up to leave."

"His friends then officially reported him missing since they had travelled there with him in his car and had to make alternate arrangements to get home. The local police tried to investigate but nothing was found after a search of the area or by contacting any of the people who had attended the event that weekend. That was difficult enough since there had been up to 500 people there. Although campers all had to register, there was little control over visitors. It was anything but a secure site."

"Bones, you know I have to ask. Were you there?" Booth asked, dreading what would happen if her answer was yes. She would most likely be pulled from the case.

"No, Booth, I wasn't. I wanted to go but decided to stay home and work on a homework assignment. I did know him and the others that he drove down with, though. He was my high school history teacher. He worked at one of the schools I attended after my parents and Russ left. The school would let them do demonstrations every once in a while and there were a few of us that decided to join. My foster parents at the time thought it was kind of weird but ultimately harmless, so they gave their permission."

"His disappearance was the biggest story at school as everyone came up with their own theories of what had happened to him, not to mention what would happen to their grades for his classes. After high school, I joined a college group for a couple of years but left when my course work got to be too much. I had the opportunity to take an internship in South America, so I had to leave. I found my time as a member very useful when I began studying anthropology. I came to see that the medieval period of European history was a very irrational time and the SCA was based more on a romanticized mythology that is billed by the organization as being "the way it should have been" which doesn't make any sense at all." she said.

"I'll check Maryland and Chicago MP files first thing tomorrow. Hopefully, there's something there that will help us," Booth said, with hopes that the ID of these remains might be one of those rare "open and shut" cases. He was however more worried about the personal aspect for Bones since she apparently knew more than expected about this case.

"It would be great to solve this one. He was a very popular teacher and had a gift for teaching history. Is there anything else you would like to know?" Brennan said, as memories, both bittersweet and happy, of that time in her life came back to her. She found herself irritated by feelings of uncertainty and loneliness whenever she thought about her high school years.

"It's alright, Bones. I understand, I really do. It was just a surprise to find out you had been part of a group now involved in one of our cases. I'm just relieved that you chose this SCA instead of one of those other fantasy lives we've had to investigate," Booth said, noticing her growing agitation and gave her one of his smiles to hopefully lighten the mood a little.

"Booth!" Brennan exclaimed in shock and swatted his shoulder, as she remembered some of those cases he was referring to. They had investigated a comic book animator who thought he was a super hero and one case introduced them to the weird world of "pony play". She would always remember losing her argument with Booth over 'crappy sex' when that case was solved. She looked over at Booth and couldn't resist a smile, knowing he was just teasing.

"So, can I ask about Countess Amelia? What was it like being Queen?" Booth prompted, gently.

"Well, as you noticed, most people choose a different name. As a child, I was fascinated by Amelia Earhart so I chose her first name. A friend thought I needed a last name so she came up with Rosenmere for me. I learned how to fight in full body armour as a heavy fighter using the larger weapons as opposed to archery that is considered a light fighting style. My martial arts training helped me learn quickly since I had started that as a young child."

"When I turned 18, I decided to enter a Crown tournament just for fun. I had a friend from our group that entered as well and we chose each other in case either of us won. You have to declare who you will reign with when you enter. You always fight for the honor of a particular person. We couldn't believe it when I won and no, I didn't have to fight him since he had already been eliminated. Our reign was uneventful. It was only six months long. We gave out the usual awards to people and attended events all over the kingdom. Apart from being a busy time, it was fun and I met a lot of people."

"I have my own armour similar to what we found today. Parts of mine were actually made by the General. I'm glad it was him you found today. If we can find and connect Stephen's helm to the bones we found, Randolf may be able to help. He made the helm and recognized the gauntlet as one he may have helped Stephen make for himself. He made several during that time using the same basic pattern for various people. He's a very gifted metalworker and armourer," she explained.

"Booth, we've been invited back to the camp for the afternoon and evening tomorrow. There will be a group gathering called "Court" in the afternoon where we can speak to everyone and give people a chance to find us later. Of course, it will be to our advantage to attend in costume. I have my own clothes but we can borrow something for you to wear," she said, tentatively gauging his reaction to her suggestion.

"Sure, that's a good idea. We can blend into the crowd and I'd like a chance to speak with the General again. We have several acquaintances in common. I don't know about the costume, Bones. I saw men wearing tights and I'm telling you, that's not going to happen," Booth said, defensively.

"Booth, There are lots of different choices that don't involve tights. I'll find something simple that you can wear over a t-shirt and dark jeans that won't damage your delicate male sensibilities. I promise, no tights!" Brennan assured him with a laugh.

For the rest of the trip back to D.C., Brennan found herself going through her memories. Despite the pain of losing her family and living "in the system", her experiences in the SCA had been mostly happy ones. She'd found that the SCA had been one environment where she didn't need to know common cultural references since it had its own terminology that everyone had to learn from scratch. That created a very welcome even playing field where she could relax and just be herself.

By early afternoon the next day, Brennan and the other squints had completed their preliminary exam of the remains and Booth had been able to acquire the files he needed to begin the investigation. So far, all the collected evidence pointed to Brennan's missing teacher but they still had to wait for DNA confirmation. One happy find in the MP file was an itemized list of things found at Winter's campsite. If the remains were confirmed as being Winters, the mystery of some of the missing armour was solved. Apparently, his helm, weapons and shield had been found near a sunshade he had shared with other fighters that day. His missing leg armour was still not accounted for, though. There was no indication if any of his effects had been saved. It was unlikely. They had probably been released back to his family at some point but it was worth looking into.

After lunch, Booth arrived at Brennan's apartment to pick her up to go out to the campground. As suggested, he wore a dark t-shirt, black jeans and a good pair of leather boots. Brennan promptly answered his knock at her door and revealed that she had already changed into the costume she planned to wear.

She had chosen a rusty red dress that fit her slim but shapely figure snugly with slits at the waist to reveal a natural linen under-dress visible lightly ruffled at the neckline with an attractive hint of cleavage. The over dress was laced from the waist up and along the underside of her arms instead of a stitched seam. Her accessories included a white leather belt with a pouch and soft leather boots. For jewelry, she wore a gold necklace of large links. a red enamel teardrop pendant and a thin silver circlet on her head that she had secured under a section of hair at the back.

"Wow, you look great!" he complimented her as he used his hand circling the air to request that she do a spin for his benefit. It took a moment for Brennan to catch on to what his hand signal meant and turned gracefully in a tight circle. He suddenly felt his face grow warm as he appreciated the transformation before him. He had always acknowledged to himself that his partner was a beautiful woman. When his body insisted on adding a similar comment, it took a moment to remind himself with a mental cold shower that this was work. He wasn't here to pick up a date.

"Why, thank you, my lord. You are most kind," she said softly with a low graceful curtsey and teasing smile. She grabbed an overnight bag with a change of ordinary clothes and draped a large hooded cloak over her arm.

"Who are you and what have you done with Bones?" he said with a chuckle. "Countess Amelia, I presume?"

She decided to play along and gave him an acknowledging nod. "And who might you be, my lord?"

"Well, I guess, I'm just plain Booth," he said, apologetically. "What will I wear?"

"We'll find something at the camp. There is usually a tent where people can borrow costumes. You know, in the SCA, everyone is considered to start out as minor nobility. I looked up your name once in a surname dictionary, and apparently, your ancestors were probably shepherds who lived in a hut on a hill. They have done an excellent job of improving their station in life since then," she teased.

"Ha, ha, very funny," Booth said. "I'll have to look that up for myself."

"It's the truth. That's what it said. Come on, we don't want to be late for Court. Their Majesties would be most displeased," Brennan said, in a mock serious tone.

"Shall we, then, my lady?" Booth said gallantly and held the door open with a flourish, as they both left. On the way out, Booth thought to himself 'this should be interesting'. He rarely saw his partner in such a good mood, especially lately, given their recent personal challenges. 'This might actually be fun if we weren't possibly looking for a murderer in the crowd', he thought.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

An hour later, they arrived at the event's Troll Booth and registered themselves as guests. The volunteer member acting as constable for that shift was a Philadelphia police lieutenant who had already been alerted to their expected presence that evening. The lieutenant wasn't sure if he should be happy the FBI were there or not. It could either mean extra help if something happened or a warning that trouble was coming.

It would have been nice if they could have left modern items like cell phones behind. Booth's FBI status allowed him to keep his side arm, of course. As long as it was concealed and his phone was set to vibrate, their presence wouldn't disrupt the sensibilities of the event's participants. He couldn't allow himself to be unreachable while on an active case.

The next order of business was to find something for Booth to wear. Nearby was the Chatelaine's Gold Key tent with a large selection of costumes of all types and sizes. A helpful young woman in a fancy Tudor style dress, not the best choice for a camping event, soon had him suitably attired in a brown Saxon tunic with black and gold embroidered trim around the neckline, sleeves and bottom hemmed edge that he could wear over his t-shirt and pants. It was elegant without being too flashy, allowed for easy movement and was the right length and size to cover his gun holster at his right hip. A black belt and leather pouch for his cell phone, car keys and an extra ammo clip completed his garb. He was also encouraged to select a cloak for later when the day's heat was guaranteed to change to a damp chill.

Booth stood and tried to be patient before the tent's full length mirror as Brennan and the Gold Key's attendant fussed around him. The attendant demonstrated a few of the basic variations on how the cloak could be attached using circular brass pins.

"There. See, Booth. Just as I promised...no tights," Brennan said as she thought fleetingly that it would have been nice to have Angela's expert advice but had to admit that the Gold Key's attendant had chosen an appropriate style for him. "We'd better check in with Duke Randolf and find out if we can address everyone at court this afternoon."

They thanked the young woman for her help, made arrangements for the return of Booth's costume and continued on their way. They passed the busy marketplace of Merchants Row and took a few minutes to view the wide selection of wares at the various stalls.

By using the campground layout map they were given at the Troll Booth, they soon made their way through the crowds to the fighting field where they found that the weekend's "war" hadn't finished yet. The field of battle was edged on one side with sun shelters and shade umbrellas where spectators of all ages gathered. As they approached, Booth could see a battle in progress on the other side of the field where a castle structure had been built. Brennan asked a passing herald where they might be able to find their Majesties and the Duke. They were directed to a large shelter marked by the Kingdom's royal banner.

As they approached, the Duke caught sight of them, and immediately beckoned them in. The throne chairs from the larger Royal Pavilion had been moved to the shelter. One was occupied by a pretty dark haired young woman wearing a circlet surrounded by a small group of courtiers and ladies-in-waiting.

"Countess Amelia, my lord Booth, I am so glad you were able to join us today. Let me introduce you," said Duke Randolf as he made the introductions to Her Majesty, Queen Alexa and the rest of her entourage. "King Ragnar is in the middle of that castle battle over there, at the moment." He informed them that there were still a few battles yet to be fought including a demonstration of a catapult and a similar contraption called a ballista.

Brennan made her request to speak to everyone at Court about the ongoing investigation and was directed to the Royal Herald, a Lord Kristoff, standing nearby who was in charge of the order of events. The rest of the battles were not expected to take long and Court would occur more or less on schedule in about two hours time. Duke Randolf had been the one who suggested this the day before when he had invited them back for today's activities and had already mentioned the possibility to their Majesties.

Brennan told them that she intended to begin as any other person being summoned at Court but would then break character in order to speak frankly about the real world identities of herself and Booth and the previous day's discovery. They all agreed that this was appropriate for the situation. Booth had already discussed with Brennan that he would allow himself to be pointed out at the appropriate moment but that he would be staying in the background to observe the crowd.

With that settled, they were invited to join the group as they watched the remaining melees. The field of combatants included both heavy fighters and archers. Booth couldn't tell who was winning but his interest was soon drawn to watching the different fighting styles of various fighters. Noticing his attention to the action on field, Randolf explained some of the weapons and armour styles. He also explained some of the basic rules followed on the field.

There were several people who weren't fighting called marshals who were compared to referees. Every once in a while, someone would yell "Hold". This was one of the first and most important rules learned by everyone, fighters and spectators of all ages alike. A call of "Hold" instructed everyone within hearing range, on field and off, to cease moving. Someone was either hurt or some danger or breach of safety had been observed. It could be called by anyone who sees a justifiable reason for the call.

Between melees and during calls of "Hold", people called "water bearers" were allowed on the field to offer water to anyone requesting it. Hydration was always an important safety concern due to the high level of activity, heavy and hot armour and the heat of the day. A call of "lay on" or something similar usually indicated that fighting could resume.

After the melees were finished, they were quickly introduced to a battle worn King Ragnar who excused himself to clean up and prepare for Court. Duke Randolf invited them to join his wife, Duchess Katrina and their family of three teenaged boys for a quick meal before Court. Booth enjoyed high status with the young boys for being an FBI agent and they tried to get him to talk about his most dangerous cases. Just as they were finishing their meal a distant call was heard, repeated at a couple of distant points around the camp.

"Oyez, Oyez! My lords & ladies, Court will commence in 45 minutes. All those who wish to participate in the Grand Processional, please report to the Royal Pavilion in 20 minutes. "

"Countess Amelia, will you be joining us in the Processional? We would be honored if you would come with us," Duchess Katrina asked.

"Yes, my dear Countess, you should be properly introduced at Court since you will be addressing everyone," the Duke added.

"Go on, Bo..., umm my lady Amelia," Booth urged, quickly catching himself on the use of his partner's nickname. "It'll give me a chance to watch the crowd as everyone arrives."

This was one instance where she was able to get Booth to agree not to use her nickname in public. They had been discussing the odd way of speaking that Booth had observed the day before from Duke Randolf and others. Brennan explained that most participants are encouraged to speak "forsoothly" and there were several SCA specific terms for common or modern things. For example, costumes were called "garb", bathrooms were "garderobes" or "the necessary", cameras were "soul stealers" and phones were "far speakers". One rule of etiquette was the use of titles in public even in the presence of friends and family. She tried to offer a compromise by allowing him to call her Amelia instead of "Bones" but even though he gave his promise, she didn't hold much hope. At least, he seemed to be trying.

When the proper time approached, the group all made their way to the Royal Pavilion to line up according to rules of protocol.

"Thanks for playing along, Booth. I know it's strange and seems overly dramatic at first," Brennan said, trying to gauge Booth's reaction to the events of the afternoon.

"Don't worry, Bones...umm Amelia. Just let me know what's going on and I'll be fine," he whispered in her ear as they walked together. As they got closer to the Pavilion and the growing crowd, Booth gave her an encouraging wink as he moved off to find himself a comfortable position to watch as people took their positions on either side of the designated area that left the space directly in front of the thrones clear.

Soon the Royal Processional, or Grand March as it is sometimes known, began with the announced entrance of their Majesties at the head of the line. Once they were seated, the processional continued with the herald announcing each person in line to approach the King and Queen.

Booth watched the crowd with a well-trained eye as the march continued. There were more than 50 people in the lineup but it seemed to go relatively quickly. He also found himself enjoying the opportunity to watch Bones. Her costume suited her beautifully and seeing her in this environment was definitely one he would never have guessed she had been a part of so many years ago. His focus on Bones lead his thoughts to the fact that he had long since accepted that he had fallen in love with her. He was quite aware that her insecurities and view of the world would make his campaign to win her heart a long and difficult one. Soon after discovering his depth of feeling for his partner, adhering to a strict line of conduct was more out of fear than anything else. He later came to realize that his "line" could be temporary. It functioned more as a reminder to himself to be patient as much as to protect Bones and their work relationship.

She didn't believe in marriage or fidelity for life and didn't want children. He hoped he could change her mind, at least on some points. He was content to spend his days in her company as they performed their respective jobs. When he was by himself, he was certain he could remain faithful to his "line" and wait for the right moment but times like today definitely challenged his resolve.

Brennan approached the head of the line and was soon next to be announced. The herald's voice rang out clearly,"Countess Dame Amelia Rosenmere of Midrealm."

At hearing her name, Brennan did as all those ahead of her. She approached their Majesties, gave a gracious and low curtsy, walked the appropriate distance backwards with her head bowed and retreated to the designated place where she would wait to be called to speak to the crowd.

Court began with a few housekeeping announcements from the Autocrat on campground rules, placement of garbage receptacles, etc. The Kingdom Marshall announced the winner of the "War" and several people were called forward to receive scrolls and awards. A great cheer with some enthusiastic whistling went up from the crowd for the winning side. A few presentations of gifts for the crown were next and before Brennan knew it, it was time for her little speech.

"Their Majesties invite Countess Dame Amelia Rosenmere to approach with a special announcement," called the Kingdom Herald

As she did before during the processional, Brennan came forward, curtsied and moved to the side so that she could be seen by both their Majesties and the rest of the audience.

"First, I wish to thank their Majesties for allowing me to speak this afternoon. It has been many years since I was last among people of the Society and I appreciate their welcome after such a long absence. As many of you are aware, human remains were found here yesterday. This is not a set up for a mystery theatre for this weekend's entertainment. This is real. The remains have not yet been identified but it is possible that many years ago, someone attended an event in this place, died and lay forgotten in the forest," Brennan began. The crowd erupted in a hum of whispers as people who hadn't heard or believed the news now gasped in surprise while others speculated on the identity of the remains.

With a gracious nod towards the King and Queen, she continued, "With their Majesties permission, I wish to address you today as my mundane self. My name is Dr. Temperance Brennan. I am a forensic anthropologist who identifies people when there is nothing left of a body but the bones and I am part of the team investigating these remains. I am here with my partner, Special Agent Seeley Booth of the FBI," Brennan pointed him out at the back of the crowd. He stepped forward a pace and gave a small wave of his hand. "If anyone has any information regarding this investigation, we will be here for the rest of the evening. You may also approach Duke Sir Randolf, their Majesties or the Constable on duty at the Troll Booth if you need to contact us or the authorities. I again thank the indulgence of the Court in allowing me to speak to everyone today."

Brennan turned again towards their Majesties, curtsied and retreated as before to stand beside Booth, who gave her an encouraging smile. Court continued with the usual business of giving out more awards and taking oaths of fealty. After Court, Brennan and Booth wandered around camp with an ever changing entourage. Brennan's presentation at Court had alerted many to her unexpected presence and many sought her out to pass on greetings or to catch up with an old acquaintance. Booth stayed occupied as well discussing various topics with Master Randolf and others that joined their roving group. Whenever he looked over to check on Bones, he was happy to see her relaxed, laughing and apparently enjoying herself. He often caught her eye and they briefly exchanged a smile before returning to their respective conversations. This was evidently a comfortable environment for her, almost like a homecoming. They had rarely been in a social situation together where she seemed so at ease with herself. After losing her parents and her brother, this community was the closest she had gotten to a new family.

Booth was reminded that this was truly a family event when several children of various ages ran past them carrying foam boffer swords. Of course, a few parents nearby could be heard calling out a reprimand for them to watch their manners and be careful. The children moved off to a nearby clearing to continue their swordplay. He thought of Parker and wondered what a childhood raised in this group might be like. Everyone seemed happy enough and playtime that didn't include video games or TV could be seen as a definite plus from the parenting viewpoint as long as boredom could be avoided.

They enjoyed a leisurely evening and were treated to a kind of progressive meal as each encampment they visited included offerings of food and refreshments that often included home made beer, mead or fruit wines. They sampled many but had to refuse many more to keep themselves alert for any developments in their case. They were technically off duty but during the early stages of an investigation, there really was no such thing.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Later that evening, they joined several others around a large bonfire for Bardic Circle. This ever popular event was more than a sing-along. Everyone was treated to a variety of talents from storytelling, poetry and dancing, as well as the expected mix of traditional folk and SCA "filk" songs. A troupe of three very talented belly dancers performed to an appreciative audience. Earlier that evening, they had been seen performing by request at several individual campsites. Someone had written a humourous poem describing the events of that afternoon's battle that included a line or two about finding the bones of a fallen hero from the past. Booth missed a few of the references and realized the switch in situations that often involved Bones, instead of himself, as the evidently clueless one.

The formerly hot and sunny day had cooled enough that most now wore their cloaks. Brennan had retrieved hers and sat comfortably on a log bench by the fire listening to the music. She looked around for Booth and realized she hadn't seen him for a while. She then remembered that he had wandered off with the King and Duke Randolf discussing weapons and armour. She was glad Booth seemed to be enjoying himself but she knew he was so much more adaptable to different social situations that she was.

She was happy they had come out. She hadn't realized how much she had missed being a part of this group and hadn't been to an SCA event in almost 10 years. Her life had simply taken a different path. She appreciated how the group had been there when she was needy teen/young adult, but she had come to regard the group's interpretation of medieval lifestyle as based more on mythology than fact, and even those facts were totally illogical. SCA play acting had become more of a frivolous activity than an experiment in history and her life had quickly become filled with the serious topics of death, murder and historical investigation, not to mention becoming a successful published author.

"Well, Countess Amelia, are you having a good time," Booth said with a smile as he suddenly appeared at her elbow and sat down beside her on the log.

"Yes, my lord, I am. And you...?" she said, amused by his use of her title instead of calling her Bones. Even though she had asked him to, it still seemed odd to hear her SCA name coming from him. She smiled to herself as the thought crossed her mind that if she had wanted him to stop calling her "Bones", she just had to bring him to an SCA event. Of course, that wouldn't accomplish much if they were out working on a case where "Countess Amelia" didn't belong.

"Yes, I am. It's different but I've enjoyed meeting the Duke and everyone," Booth replied. He fell silent for a moment before reaching into this inner cloak pocket to bring out a lemon studded all over with whole cloves.

"Umm, Amelia, what am I supposed to do with this? Queen Alexa gave this to me at their camp, kissed me on the cheek and said "have fun". I was talking to King Ragnar at the time and I was so surprised, all I could do was say "thank you". He clapped me on the back with a wink, the others laughed and we went back to talking about some tournament he had fought in. Is this some newby initiation or something?" he whispered, in an uncertain tone.

"Booth, her Majesty has given you a cloven lemon. It can actually be any kind of fruit with cloves pushed into the surface. It's a kissing game where the fruit is passed from one person to another by exchanging a kiss. One can always refuse to accept it but it is considered rude since the person being offered is the one who controls what kind of kiss is acceptable. It can be anything from a simple kiss on the hand, the cheek, lips or whatever is offered. The recipient usually removes a clove and, if they wish, bites it to freshen their breath or to indicate by holding it to the lips or cheek where the kiss is to be accepted," Brennan explained, amused by his nervous reaction.

"You mean, I'm stuck with it until I decide to give it to someone for a kiss?" he asked.

"Well, yes. That's the general idea,"she replied, seeing him tuck it back into his cloak pocket out of sight.

Booth wondered, fleetingly, how much trouble he would be in if he offered it to Bones. They seemed to have survived the "mistletoe kiss" at Christmas. How bad could it be? It was just a kiss, right? In this environment, a kiss was like shaking someone's hand in greeting. Friends can kiss. It wouldn't bother that pesky line too much.

Who was he kidding. He glanced into her eyes and almost became mesmerized by the dancing flames reflected from the fire. The campfire setting had all the right elements to encourage romance. It was a clear night full of stars, a woman with a beautiful voice began a romantic ballad accompanied by a small harp. The fire gave off a comforting warmth to the chill air with its crackles and shadows. The surrounding forest had that hushed quiet that allowed the happy sounds of distant partying camps throughout the little valley to be carried on the evening breeze.

The night progressed with everyone enjoying the talented offerings of several members of the crowd. After the first round of planned entertainment, the Circle became a jam session for all the musicians to play along with the selection of the moment or sing along. Brennan remembered some of them and enjoyed the opportunity to join in. She was surprised to hear Booth's own tenor voice that was quite good. She couldn't remember ever having heard him sing before.

A few songs later, someone began a humorous but vaguely familiar song about dating a selkie, a magical creature that looked human until touched by water to be transformed into a seal. Booth recognized its original version as a Kenny Rogers song as soon as he heard the first line of the chorus, _"You picked a fine time to leave me, you seal"._

Everyone in the crowd laughed and began singing along. Brennan had been humming along, lulled by the warmth of the fire and had begun to feel drowsy. Her mind began to wander as her eyes focused on the flickering lights of the fire. The words of the chorus began to repeat and echo in her mind before morphing into her latest nightmare.

_ "You picked a fine time to leave me...leave me...Seeley Booth is dead... is dead"._ Before she could stop herself, like so many times before, the familiar routine of images began their painful cycle in her mind. The feeling of panic and helplessness was like being caught in quicksand.

_Booth sank to the floor. "I'm here, Booth, you're going to be all right...Come on, Booth, come on," she cried, as she pressed her hands to his shoulder wound to staunch the blood oozing between her fingers. She glanced up to see Pam aim again at her. Without a moment's hesitation, she grabbed Booth's gun and shot her..._

_"I'm sorry, there was a complication during surgery, Seeley Booth is dead." informed the emergency room doctor to the stunned gathering of friends..._

_"Seeley Booth was an honorable man, devoted father...," said Caroline Julian as she began the eulogy at the grave side service. Brennan hated funerals. She didn't want to be there. She knew she was alone again. Standing around a hole in the ground wouldn't bring him back to her. She wished she had taken the bullet herself..._

Booth glanced at Bones beside him when he felt her body stiffen and her eyes seemed to lose their firelight. He should have expected that song might trigger her memories. Not knowing what else to do, he reached over and gently placed his hand on her tightly clasped hands. At his touch, she seemed to snap out of it, her hands relaxed under his warm touch and looked at him with eyes filling with tears.

"I'm here, Bones. I'm here," he told her softly.

"You know, don't you...whenever I remember..." Brennan whispered, glanced down at her hands and back to his eyes filled with warmth and concern.

She knew her past accusation that he didn't care about her wasn't true and had just been part of her confusion on the day he was revealed to be alive. He had apologized so many times since then but there was still something that kept her remembering the devastation of those two weeks he was "dead". She had lost him and grieved silently. He had become such an integral part of her life that when he was no longer there, she had to lock away her feelings of pain, loss and loneliness as if she had suddenly sprung a dozen leaks that needed to be stopped up for her to survive. Her own feelings for Booth ran so deep that she still couldn't label them as love. Was there such a thing as 'more' than love?

"Yes, I know. I understand. I've had them too...about other things from a long time ago but I know the signs," he replied.

"With everything I've seen and done, why this... now. At the oddest times, something will bring back those memories of the shooting, killing that woman, the hospital, your "funeral" and Zach. This was just a silly song," she said, becoming angry with herself. She pulled her hands from under his to wipe her tears.

"It's that head and heart thing again. Your head knows all the facts of what happened but your heart got bounced from one emotion to another so much that it's still trying to understand," he said to reassure her. "The thing that helped me the most was talking about the images so much that they stopped being scary. Keeping it bottled in makes it worse. It takes time."

Booth hated to see the look of sadness and pain on her face and the guilt of being mostly responsible made it intolerable. He grasped about for something to help or at the very least, distract her from it all. Without thinking of the consequences, he impulsively reached into his cloak pocket and brought out the cloven lemon.

"My lady Amelia, I can't change what's done. This gift is all I have for your heart's solace," he said softly as he gazed into her eyes, alive again with flickering flames of fire. His hand held the lemon and he almost held his breath as he waited for her reaction.

Brennan was pleasantly surprised by Booth's comforting poetic phrase "heart's solace" and decided she liked it. Her lips quirked into a smile as she gently took the lemon from his hand. She removed a clove, nibbled at an end and placed the rest on her tongue. She leaned across the short distance to place her lips on his with a feather light touch before pulling back just far enough to release a small sigh.

Booth felt a puff of clove scented air against his lips before they made contact again. He reached up with a hand to cradle her cheek and his other moved around to her back to hold her close. Their kiss was tentative at first, but a passionate spark met willing tinder as a long suppressed blaze of emotions found their moment of revelation. The realities of their situation filtered back to their stunned minds as they suddenly remembered they again had an audience. They moved effortlessly into a gentle embrace to catch their breath and control emotions that had taken them both by surprise.

At least this time, there was no one counting steamboats. It wouldn't have mattered to this crowd anyway. There had already been several kissing couples over the course of the evening making it quite apparent that there were several of her Majesty's cloven fruit already in circulation. Booth became puzzled and then smiled when he felt a hard lump in his mouth, like a piece of wood, he realized was the clove. She had done it again, just like the piece of gum transferred to him during their mistletoe kiss.

The moment their lips touched, Brennan's feelings of anguish and panic eased to be replaced with the comfort of Booth's protective presence. She somehow knew that those painful memories would never hold her hostage again. They weren't quite yet in the same category as having tied one's shoes in the morning but that would come with time. It was very irrational but it was almost as if a part of her had refused to believe that Booth was really alive until that moment.

"Please don't die again, Booth," she whispered into his ear, from the protective circle of his arms.

"I'll do my best, Bones, I'll do my best." he replied, with a chuckle while they slowly separated from each other's arms. "Are you ready to go home or do you want to stay longer?"

"Let's go. We should find their Majesties and the Duke to say our good-byes," she said.

They stood up to leave when an odd sound like "thwmp" was heard a split second after they felt the air move as something came at them. Booth reeled backwards over the log bench and fell to the ground with an arrow piercing in his right shoulder.

Instantly, there were gasps of surprise from those around the circle, several cries of "Hold" and "Stop that Archer" with scuffling and crashing sounds in the surrounding trees.

"Booth!" Brennan cried as she stepped over the log to get to him. "Booth, don't take it..."

Before she could stop him, he grasped the shaft with his left hand and pulled it out, releasing the pinned fabrics of the cloak, tunic and t-shirt. The cloak slid off his shoulder and as if a cork had been removed, blood welled up through the hole in his tunic and t-shirt.

"Bones, I'm fine," he said, through clenched jaws. He needed to reassure her and at the same time, cultivated his anger at being shot to help him deal with the sudden flood of pain. Since the arrow hit the same shoulder that had so recently been shattered by a bullet, the nerves were understandably tender.

"No, you're not and we have to protect that arrow. It's evidence now," she said immediately thinking logically and taking comfort in the fact that this time, Booth really would be okay. She carefully examined the wound. "Come on, let's go find the Chirurgeon's tent. It doesn't look that bad despite the blood. It didn't penetrate very far."

The arrow was instantly identified as an ordinary target arrow that had been improperly and illegally fitted with a blunted end used for making arrows safe for use during mixed melee battles. The target tip had not been removed and if not for the added resistance of the blunt and several layers of clothing, the arrow would have passed much deeper into Booth's shoulder.

Someone offered a handful of paper towel that she gave him to press to his shoulder and a couple of nearby people assisted him in standing up. The shooting incident had successfully killed the mood of the otherwise enjoyable Bardic Circle and everyone simultaneously decided it was time to head back to their own campsites. Two young men came running up to them as they were leaving the campfire.

"My lady, he's been caught. Where should we take him?" one of them said excitedly.

"Take him to the Troll Booth for the constable to look after and have someone inform Duke Randolf and their Majesties. We need someone to take us to the Chirurgeon's tent," she replied.

"Bones, what's a 'ki-what's it'," Booth asked, feeling a little lightheaded but better now that the initial pain had subsided and the bleeding had almost stopped. Although it may get bloody, he put the cloak back on to help ward against shock and feeling the chill of the night air.

"It's the first aid station, Booth. There is usually a member who's a Red Cross volunteer, an EMT or something like that," she explained.

They were quickly lead to the chirurgeon's tent and Booth had his shoulder bandaged by an older woman who had the mundane occupation of ER nurse. She had been sitting outside with her companions when they walked up and requested help. She ushered them inside and between herself and Brennan, they removed his tunic and t-shirt. The puncture wound continued to ooze blood and there was a red circular mark around it that would probably develop into a good bruise.

Thankfully, the arrow tip hadn't done much more than break the skin and penetrated the muscle about an inch. The nurse noticed that the puncture was in the same place as a recent healing scar she knew was a bullet wound. She was about to ask about it when both Brennan and Booth gave her a "don't ask" kind of look. By way of explanation, Booth pulled out his FBI badge. She remembered then that she had seen these two people before during court earlier that day.

Once his bandage was in place, he put his t-shirt back on. The tunic needed to be cleaned and repaired before it was returned and there was no reason to put it back on now, anyway. He was grateful to have the warmth of the cloak, though. They thanked the helpful woman for her assistance and Booth promised to have his injury looked at by a doctor as soon as possible.

With Booth patched up, they were both anxious to get to the Troll Booth to interrogate the suspect caught in the woods. They met the Duke just outside who had been waiting for them.

"Booth, I hope your wound is not serious," he said, sympathetically.

"I'll be fine, sir. Thank you," Booth replied.

"Good, glad to hear it. My dear, I should warn you that the person who shot your partner is someone we both know," Duke Randolf, said turning to Brennan.

Brennan took a quick look through the tent's doorway without being seen by the person inside. She did, in deed, recognize the prisoner. Her anger and surprise assaulted her at the same time as her logical nature began to weave a possible scenario that may solve the case before them.

"Booth, he's right. I do know him. I think I know now what happened to our victim in the woods," she said.

Booth and Brennan entered the tent. The constable on duty, another nearby city police officer, had handcuffed the man and reported that he had called the local police to come get him. The bow used to fire the arrow at Booth had also been retrieved by the quick thinking Good Samaritans who had run him down through the bush. Together with the arrow shot at Booth, they should have enough to establish their case against their prisoner.

A tall thin man with a scruffy beard and lanky brown hair, glared sourly at Brennan when she came in. He wore a simple tunic, similar to Booth's, but his had not faired very well and had rips and tears no doubt a result of the effort to capture him.

"Hello, Fang. It's been a long time," Brennan said, trying to keep her anger under control.

Booth wished they had time to discuss her revelation about the case and how she knew this man but they had been involved in enough cases now that he trusted her to conduct the interrogation competently. He was willing to allow her to see how much information she could get and would jump in only when necessary. Full confessions were always appreciated...less hassle and paperwork. So much of this case seemed to revolve around her and this group, anyway. He might as well sit back and watch.

"Yes, it has...my Queen," he said with a smirk.

* * *

A/N: In case anyone is curious, the song used as Brennan's trigger was written by Elizabeth Ann Scarborough. Its a humorous little song and fairly easy to find by googling the line used above as the title. This song and the custom of cloven fruit were the main inspirations for this story.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Fang, this is my partner, Special Agent Seeley Booth with the FBI. Just in case you didn't know who you were shooting at," Brennan said, her anger still simmering. A sudden wash of memories of past wrongs done to her by this former friend didn't help her temper much.

"King Fang, Bones?" asked Booth, who settled himself on a folding chair and made the obvious connection to who this person was.

"No, Booth, well yes, its the right person but his SCA name is Theodoric. This is Todd Driscoll, one of my former foster brothers. He got the nickname, Fang, when he was bitten by a rattlesnake when he was 10. He used to have the snake's fang in a little pendant capsule. He also has a snake head tattoo with 'Fang' on his right triceps brachii muscle." Brennan explained, while the focus of all their attention just sat there and gave off waves of his own irritation at being ignored for the moment. Booth raised his eyebrows to wait for the translation of her squint speak. "That's his upper arm. So, Todd, care to explain what happened tonight?"

"Don't call me that, Tempe. You know only Mom calls me that." he said, petulantly. His face was pale and it was obvious that he was probably high on something. It seemed that taking care of his health and appearance wasn't a big priority recently, either.

"Fine...Fang. So how is Grace?" she asked, politely.

"She's fine, still taking in kids like us," he replied, making a show of being nice and cooperative.

"That's good. I'm glad to hear that. It's so nice to see you after all these years and have this nice chat, Fang. Now, tell me...what the hell happened tonight? Why was my partner shot with an arrow?" she said icily, gesturing towards Booth.

"Well, I was just going to come up and say hello tonight but your partner there showed up. Next thing I noticed is the two of you getting "close and personal" with each other. It stirred up some bad memories of us and I got angry," Driscoll said, as he tried on the "jilted lover" act for size.

"Oh, I see. So for old times sake, you got jealous and decided to scare him off, is that it? Not to mention, firing a dangerous weapon in a public place endangering the lives of others," Brennan said. "Are you trying to get yourself banished permanently? You're already persona non grata in three kingdoms already for selling drugs at events. I heard a couple of years ago that your name was up for permanent banishment with the BoD. I'm surprised they even let you in this weekend."

"Ah, come on, Tempe. I was just trying to help you with your case. Those bones you found are Winters, aren't they? You know that if I had wanted to really hurt someone bad, they'd be dead," he replied with complete confidence that what he said was true.

'That's true, Booth. He was always exceptionally good at target archery. He could do with a bow & arrow what you can with a gun," Brennan informed him.

"Well, we don't need your kind of "help". What was shooting me supposed to accomplish, Fang?" Booth asked. He winced in pain, held his arm carefully and wished he had a sling to take the weight of his arm off his shoulder.

"Well, there's this guy I've been having troubles with, lately. I figured I could get your spotlight shining on his ass for a while. I know he was there when Winters disappeared. The bow and arrow I used tonight are his. I swear, I didn't know about the bad blunt. It was just supposed to bounce off you with no more than a bruise. Of course, I wasn't planning on getting caught. I tripped on a tree root," he explained, trying to defend himself.

"Thanks to those helpful guys who caught you, we don't need to worry about your 'friend'. We got you now to sit under that fine spotlight you mentioned," Booth remarked.

"You were there too, Fang...that weekend Winters disappeared. I remember that much. What happened back then? Did you have a fight over something? Did you kill him and leave his body in the woods?" Brennan asked.

"No, Tempe, I didn't kill him. You know they questioned me along with everyone else. I admitted to having an argument with him, but that's all that happened," he said, fidgeting restlessly on his chair.

'That's right, I remember, you shared a tent with him. What did he do, find your marijuana stash?" Brennan said as details of that time came back to her. "It's an established fact that you were using drugs back then. Six months later, you got caught at school and had to spend time in rehab for 3 months. Grace was very disappointed in you. She always had such high hopes that you could make something of yourself," Brennan commented.

Driscoll seemed to lose his bravado and scrubbed his face with his handcuffed hands in frustration.

"No, Tempe, you're wrong. Yeah, I was smoking joints but...All right, I didn't want to tell you this but you always thought Winters walked on water and could do no wrong. I couldn't prove it afterwards but the argument with him was not about my stash. It was his. I accidentally found a bag of weed in our tent and I knew it wasn't mine. I did take it though and that's what we argued about. He accused me of stealing it and wanted it back. After the last battle that day before he had taken off his armour, he saw me on the far edge of the field, farthest away from the campsites.

He tried to blackmail me into giving it back. He said all he had to do was say he'd found it in my things and I'd be in trouble. He waited until there was no one around us to hear what we were saying and then he pulled me into the trees so no one would see us. He started shoving me around. I got angry and pushed him. He fell and hit his head on a log. I thought I had killed him so I pulled him deeper into the trees and left. I moved his stuff back to the shelter he had been sharing with the others. I was scared and didn't know what to do. I knew that I didn't kill him because I went back later that night and he was gone. I couldn't tell where he went but he never showed up anywhere that weekend. I can't prove it, but I know I didn't kill him," he finished and began to visibly shake. He looked quite ill and definitely strung out now. He continued to whisper "I didn't kill him" over and over again.

"The local cops just arrived, Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan," the troll booth's constable informed them when he poked his head into the tent during the convenient moment of silence.

Booth gave his report on the evening's events to the officers and handed Driscoll over to them with the instructions that he intended to have the prisoner transferred to D.C. As the police car left, Booth stood beside Bones as they watched the retreating vehicle become swallowed by the night's darkness.

"So, do you believe him about Winters, Bones." Booth said, putting his uninjured arm around her shoulders.

"I don't know, Booth. Of course, it's disappointing to find out he may have been smoking marijuana. He was a teacher who always gave out the "Don't Do Drugs" line like everybody else. The scenario is close to what I thought it might have been. I knew as soon as I saw Todd tonight, that his problems with drugs during those years could have been part of the story. I will check the toxicology reports tomorrow to see if we can prove what he said. If Winters did use drugs, it should be traceable."

"You know, Todd seemed to be doing so well when he came home after that time in rehab. The next few years seemed to prove that he had solved his problem. He finished high school and even started college but then, he started to lose his way again. When we both turned 18 and Grace needed the space for other kids, we shared an apartment for a little while just as friends. By the time I left for South America, he was back in jail for using and selling cocaine to kids. He'd stolen blank cheques and stuff around the house from Grace and me to finance his habit. He got caught up in it all again and then he was lost. The person we knew was gone and you saw what he's become," she said, sadly, remembering the pain and disillusionment.

"I'm sorry, Bones," Booth said, sympathetically and drew her closer to him briefly for a one-armed half-hug.

"How's your shoulder feeling? We need to get home and have it looked at properly," she said, acknowledging his concern with a brief smile.

"It's just sore, Bones. Nothing to worry about," he replied.

They thanked the constable for his assistance and said their final farewells to everyone they had met that evening who had gathered at the troll booth when news of the shooting had been passed around. Before leaving, Brennan quickly changed out of her costume and into the spare clothes she had brought with her.

"Booth, give me your keys. I'm driving home," Brennan said as they walked towards his vehicle. She stubbornly prepared herself for an argument and gave him a look that emphatically stated she would not take no for an answer.

"Bones, I'm fine, really..." he said, but as he looked into her determined face, he could feel his own energy levels falter. He knew she was right. He sighed and held out his keys where they were immediately snapped up triumphantly into her hand before he could change his mind. "All right, but don't get used to it, Bones."

On the way home, they briefly discussed the case. Brennan filled him in on a few more details of Driscoll's life "in the system". He had been placed into care at the age of 3. He was soon afterwards placed into the home of Grace and John Matheson and adopted by them when he was 8 years old. Brennan had only stayed with this family for about six months during that first year after her parents disappeared. It was one of the few placements that she actually regretted leaving as the system forced her to move on to another caregiver. She and Todd had remained friends afterwards and she had occasionally received updates on him and some of the other foster siblings she had known through cards and letters from Grace over the years.

Their conversation lapsed into silence and Booth immediately fell asleep. In a short amount of time, they returned to D.C. and stopped at the nearest hospital's emergency centre to have Booth's injury looked at.

After going through the admitting procedures, they settled themselves on a bench in the waiting room with a few other people of all ages needing late night medical services. Booth wondered how Brennan was handling everything that had happened that day, especially the events of the evening just prior to his unfortunate contact with an arrow.

"Bones, umm, you know you can always talk to me about those memories that were bothering you. You know that, right?" Booth asked. He knew they were both exhausted but he wasn't sure he should leave this topic unfinished. He was also beginning to feel guilty about kissing her so enthusiastically. As crossing lines went, it was a definite step on the other side. At first he had expected her to offer her hand or her cheek to kiss. He had actually been surprised that Bones had kissed him on the lips instead of the other more platonic options. Not that he was complaining about her choice but it did complicate matters, at least in his mind. The time wasn't right yet to officially cross that line. Sometimes he doubted himself and hated the feeling of wanting something he thought maybe he shouldn't even hope for. The price if things went wrong seemed just too high when he let his fears surface in his mind.

"Yes, I know. I'm certain they won't be intruding like they were anymore. Thanks, Booth," she said, meeting his eyes with a gentle smile. She had surprised herself, as well, with her unconscious decision to kiss Booth the way it had happened. She knew he would be worrying about his "line" even though she instinctively knew by his passionate response that he had wanted it as much as she had. Just to see what he might say, she decided to offer an apology anyway. "I'm sorry if I crossed the line. The moment just happened."

"Do you regret it?" he looked at her intently to see if he could gauge her feelings on their 'moment'.

"No, of course, not. It's like that thing people say about Las Vegas," she said, with a smile as a possible solution came to mind.

"What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas," he said, beginning to understand what she was getting at.

"Yes, that's it. The same applies to the SCA. You could say, 'what happens at Bardic Circle, stays at Bardic Circle'. After all, I believe it was Amelia, and not your partner, who was offered the lemon, wasn't it. I know she found it very enjoyable to revisit a place with many fond memories and was very glad you were there...except for getting shot, of course," she said, accepting that her logic was not very precise but would do for the situation. She needed to think about whether crossing that line of Booth's was something she truly wanted. She had always supported his professional conduct rules but when they were alone together outside of work and especially after that kiss, it was becoming a question that no longer had an easy answer.

"Ah, I see. Yes, that does change things considerably. Perhaps, I may meet Amelia another time," he said, with one of his best charm smiles despite his fatigue. He reached over to pick up Brennan's hand, brought it to his lips and kissed it gently. He lingered an extra second while holding her eyes in a locked gaze. "Please pass this on to Countess Amelia with my thanks for a very interesting experience today...err, yesterday...except for getting shot, of course."

"I will and you never know, she might turn up sometime,"Brennan said, enjoying the opportunity to lighten the mood that had rapidly darkened the evening with revelations of past misdeeds.

They both began to laugh but were interrupted when a nurse called Booth's name. It was soon determined that he needed only a couple of stitches and was given some medication for pain. In a short amount of time, they were able to see the end of their long day (and half the night) in sight. They were thankful to finally reach Booth's apartment where Brennan chose to call a cab to complete her own journey home.

* * *

A/N - 'BoD' refers to the SCA organization's governing Board of Directors. Their decisions affect all members. I was worried about finding a logical solution to the mystery but I think this works. This was meant to be more fluff and PTSD resolution than case fic but structured like an episode.

Marte


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Booth was in a good mood apart from a few annoying twinges of pain from his shoulder when he walked into the Jeffersonian's lab early Monday morning. He had just returned from the city lock-up facility where he had checked on Brennan's former foster brother now being held there and was pleased with the progress made so far in their case. Booth had supervised the interrogation that resulted in a recorded statement from Driscoll that repeated the information told to them the other night. At least he was keeping his story straight with no new details or diversions. From Booth's study the day before of Greg Winter's missing person's file, Driscoll's statement at the time showed that at least he told the truth as far as it went.

A background check had also revealed that for the past few years, Todd aka 'Fang' Driscoll had worked in a series of part time labourer type jobs in the Chicago area to support himself. Although known to the local authorities as a drug user and former parolee, he had stayed mostly below their radar. Whether anything illegal could be pinned on him now that he was in custody was questionable but at least there were no outstanding warrants to worry about.

He was a little anxious about how Bones was processing the events of the weekend. The uncomfortable tension between them over the past few weeks had seemed to ease thankfully but her ability to hide her true feelings behind her cool analytical exterior often confounded him. Her recent problem with memory flashes was a prime example. He knew something wasn't right but had to wait for her to reveal what was bothering her. Pushing and prodding never got him anywhere but stuck with an angry pissed off partner.

As soon as he entered the lab, he immediately located her blue smocked figure hunched over remains on an exam table on the platform. He marveled how different she seemed from the relaxed and attractively costumed woman he remembered from their weekend visit to the world of the SCA. It almost seemed as if her focused concentration was infused into the very fabric of her smock. This gave the illusion that a simple change of clothes could account for the transformation into the guarded and controlled woman he usually encountered.

He found himself softly smiling at the thought that he had been given the rare privilege to see his partner in an environment that had allowed her to relax and just be herself. It reminded him of the few happy moments he could remember at the Checker Box's talent night when he had arranged for her to sing before being disastrously cut short when he got shot.

"Morning, Bones," he said cheerfully as he swiped his access card and walked up the platform steps.

"Morning, Booth, How's your shoulder?" she said without looking up from the bone she was intently examining. They had talked briefly Sunday evening when Booth had called to let her know he had received word that Driscoll had been transferred to the DC jail. She remembered that his call had coincided with her finding the lemon he had given her as she restocked her overnight bag to be ready the next time it was needed. When they ended the call, she had placed the clove studded fruit gently beside her little pig Jasper and Brainy Smurf on her bedside table and thought about the kiss that had surprised them both. Brennan kept her head lowered to give her a moment to hide her memory induced smile and slight flush to her face.

"Stiff and sore but otherwise fine," he replied. "So, do you know what killed him yet?"

At that moment, Hodgins walked up the platform steps, swiped his own card with one hand while the other held a handful of printout papers.

"Hey, Booth. Sorry to hear you got shot again. You really need to learn to duck. My guess is his heart stopped," he quipped. Brennan and Booth turned their attention to him, both with instantly unamused expressions.

"Ummm... you know.. Everyone dies..of.. Right, tough room. Couldn't resist a little Monday morning humour. Dr. B., the DNA results are in. It's confirmed. That's your old high school teacher there." He gestured toward the bones on the table, handed the printouts to her and left to return to his work station.

"Thanks, Hodgins," she replied, reading through the results.

"Well, at least, that part is settled," he said, as he watched her shuffle through the pages. "Can you support Driscoll's story that Winters woke up and wandered away from where he said he'd left him? It might make the difference between murder, manslaughter or accidental death."

"We can only verify that he sustained a blunt force trauma to the base of the skull that probably caused a hemorrhage. That's what killed him but there is no way of knowing how long it might have taken. If it was a cool night, he might have lingered unconscious for hours. The only thing that supports Todd's story is that we have the missing leg armour now, " she said adding information he may not have heard yet. "It was found over 200 feet from where his remains were found. Todd admitted to moving the body deeper into the woods. It was dark when he said he went back to check on him and then might have just been confused when he couldn't find him. The leg armour may have snagged on something, broken a buckle and come loose. If he was scared enough, he may have not been careful to retrieve it with the other items he said he moved. But it wouldn't be logical for him to account for some things and leave something else just as important behind."

"I think Winters did wake up at least for a short time because his gauntlets were found with his remains but not as if he had been wearing them when he died. The arm and hand bones were intact and still articulated when I recovered them. There is no reason for someone other than himself to have removed them and left them behind."

"We can support Todd's story that Winters was smoking marijuana. His toxicology report came back positive for THC. What nobody knew was that he was dying of cancer. The medical files you sent over show that he was under treatment for lymphoma. Marijuana is often used by people to lessen the debilitating effects of chemotherapy. There is no evidence that connects his death to Todd other than his testimony. We definitely have his finger prints on the bow and arrow he used to shoot you with, though."

"We questioned Fang's "friend", Jimmy Cortez, who has a rap sheet longer than Fang's but he denies making the illegally blunted arrows," Booth said, with his own newly acquired information from that morning's efforts. "Unfortunately, all of the other arrows in the quiver confiscated at the campground were the dangerous kind just like the one used on me and all of those only have Cortez's fingerprints on them. Maybe Driscoll was telling the truth about not knowing anything about that. Cortez refused to give a reason for why they had been made even though the fingerprints prove we caught him lying. We can probably charge him with an illegal weapons violation at the very least."

Through their exchange of information, Booth was relieved to see Bones back to her no nonsense analytical self but without any indication of the odd emotional fog he had sensed lately. He hoped that being able to talk about her recent problems as well as resolving this issue from her past had helped. At least, she seemed calmer and more herself. Maybe their kiss had been a good thing, after all.

"Maybe now that this situation with your teacher has been revealed, Driscoll can get help for his problems," Booth offered.

"Yes, maybe, but you know how it is. He has to want to accept help and you never know what motivation will finally inspire an addict to change," she said returning her focus to the bones on the table in front of her.

"Well, I've got to get back to the office for a meeting. Are we still on for lunch at the diner today?" Booth asked, as he turned to leave.

"Yeah, sure. Once I'm finished here, I'll be down in Limbo. Catch me there in a couple of hours," she said, with a quick smile looking sideways at him from her crouched position over the table.

Booth returned her smile with a brilliant one of his own and walked away with a backhanded wave, meeting Angela coming up the steps. Brennan found herself again distracted by her memories of the past weekend. She didn't miss the heavy depressed feeling that had surrounded the memory loops she had been experiencing. Now her mind was filled with reliving their fireside kiss and the emotionally weighted but simple kiss on her hand at the hospital that same night.

"_What is it with that man? I'm either seeing him shot or being buried at his funeral and then I can't stop thinking about..." _she thought to herself. A very disturbing thought came to mind causing her smile to disappear instantly, and then she blurted out,"Oh, damn!"

"What's wrong, sweetie?" Angela said as she stood waiting for a good moment to interrupt her friend's concentration for a chat, "...and what was that smile I saw for just a second about? You're not thinking fond thoughts about the homework your teacher there never had a chance to grade, are you?"

She had also noticed the quick exchange of smiles between the two partners and knew something had changed between them. The two of them had been dancing on eggshells around each other for weeks now. Their increased bickering was bad enough but the occasional uncomfortable silence was worse. Everyone was dealing with the same events in their own ways but it had seemed that Booth and Brennan had been having a harder time than everyone else. It made for a very uncomfortable work environment, to say the least.

"Very funny," Brennan said, trying in vain to refocus her attention on her task, "Now, that you mention it, there was an essay on the military strategies used by Roman armies that I was working on when he disappeared. The substitute teacher they brought in for the last few weeks of the school year still gave me an A+ but I..."

"Never mind about that. I want to know all about this secret life I hear you had in high school and you never told me. Is it true you dated the guy who shot Booth with an arrow this weekend?"

"Fine," she said with a sigh, " I guess I should have expected this after everything that's happened. Follow me into my office and I'll tell you all about Countess Amelia. I have to get some papers from my desk anyway."

"Who is Countess Amelia? What exactly happened this weekend?" asked Angela as she followed Brennan down the platform steps, each with their key cards ready to swipe.

"Angela, do you want to know or don't you?" Brennan asked impatiently, knowing that if she didn't stop asking questions, it would take forever to get through even the basics of her story.

Sitting on the office sofa, Brennan gave Angela the general story of her first months "in the system" after her parents and brother left. Angela had know some of this but the story she now heard gave her a clearer picture of how her friend's life had changed through her last few teen and early adult years. She heard about the friendship Brennan had formed with her foster brother and how she had become involved in the SCA group through the influence of her history teacher. Like the telling of her story to Booth, Brennan knew that a fair amount was difficult to understand without a basic knowledge of the group itself and how it functioned. She was surprised and relieved when Angela revealed that she was familiar with the group. She had dated a member several years ago while living in California and had participated in a few Renaissance Fairs at the time as well.

"So what's been happening between you and Booth? Sweets has been threatening to drag you two back into couple's counseling even though you both refused to see him after that incident with Booth being "dead" and all."

Brennan stopped to gather her thoughts for a moment before continuing. "Ange, during the two weeks that Booth was supposed to be "dead", I started having dreams and flashbacks while I was awake of the shooting and the doctor telling us he was dead. I couldn't sleep at home very well and you know I spent most of that time here at the lab. Afterwards, other memories like the funeral and sometimes the explosion that hurt Zach got added to the mess. It was driving me crazy even though I felt that I had dealt with everything logically and efficiently. I found out last weekend that Booth could tell whenever something triggered the memories while we were together. Sometimes, it would happen like a daydream while we were driving to or from a crime scene especially if I was tired or distracted. He had been treated for PTSD years ago while he was still in the military so he knew how to recognize the symptoms."

"On Saturday night out at the campground, I had another spell and we were able to talk things over. Unfortunately, as we were about to leave soon afterwards, my former foster brother shot Booth with an arrow to force the investigation to focus on someone he had a personal problem with. Instead, he got caught and we finally got the story of what happened to the teacher we had both known that had got us interested in the SCA in the first place."

"Are you sure you're going to be alright? Maybe you should see Sweets. Why didn't you tell me?" she said, as she tried not to be offended by her friend's silence when she needed help.

"I didn't want to burden anyone with my problem when we were all dealing with what happened in our own ways. I just thought I was tired from the stress. I've dealt with traumatic events before and the images in my mind were from the exact same events that we had all experienced. I just thought it would go away eventually," Brennan explained, feeling the awkwardness of trying to find the right words to explain the complicated emotions she was just now getting a handle on.

"Don't forget that a lot of those traumatic events over the last couple of years has included Booth who has been there to help you and you know it. This time he wasn't able to be there. I know you don't like me bringing this up but you have to realize how close you two have become. Think of all the things that have happened to the two of you. You've rescued each other, saved each other's lives countless times but at the end of the day, you were both together to support each other. Except for those God awful two weeks, Booth has been your safety net and gave you a break from your own stubborn self reliance. When he suddenly wasn't there, you fell back on all those old habits of holding yourself together all alone. Even when Booth was back again, you were too afraid to let go. Granted you were angry at him but its no wonder, you were having problems with stress."

"I know you're an expert at compartmentalizing your feelings but you do know that's supposed to be a temporary solution. At some point, you still have to deal with them. You can't wrap them up in a pretty box and hide them forever. Look what happened to your friend, Todd. The guilt of hurting someone and possibly causing their death probably contributed to his self destructive lifestyle that has had the recent result of him trying to hurt Booth to keep that secret hidden. Nothing stays hidden forever, sweetie. Nothing."

"I'm really sorry you went through all of that with Booth, the shooting and everything but you should have said something," Angela said, as she gently scolded. It was obvious something good had happened to heal Brennan's relationship with Booth. Maybe things were finally shifting enough to allow Brennan to see what others had known for years.

"I know, Angela and you're right. I do feel better now that Booth and I have been able to talk about what was bothering me. It helps to know he's gone through something similar. I do need your help, though. To use your analogy of boxes stuffed with things to deal with later, I now have another problem. I know you keep telling me that we should be together. What you don't understand is that I've always accepted that Booth has all of the qualities of an exceptional breeder and that we are very sexually compatible. Whenever I found myself thinking about him that way, I just ignored it. We are partners and I value his friendship too much to risk losing it. We can't have a sexual relationship and do our jobs. Booth drew a professional line of conduct when he broke things off with Cam and I respect that. It's necessary. We could lose our ability to work together if it didn't work out. You know we both have less than acceptible track records when it comes to personal relationships."

"My problem is that proverbial box is full. I can't stop thinking about him. I think we work together so well because of our genetic compatibility. We spend a lot of our days together absorbing each other's pheromones and now we have kissed twice. The second time was this weekend. I was upset about my memories and he was trying to help. I should have been more careful and now we have inadvertently triggered the biochemical responses that are supposed to lead to sexual behavior. People's saliva exchanged while kissing contains genetic markers that the body reads to subconsciously determine potential mates. Anyone who has genetic markers that are too similar like siblings or close relatives will usually find they are not attracted to each other. It's nature's way of keeping the gene pool diversified for genetically stable offspring."

Angela burst out laughing and even though Brennan frowned at her, she was unable to stop for a minute or two.

"I'm sorry, Bren...I really am, but all of that anthropologist talk just tells me that you think Booth is hot and that you're hopelessly in love with him. You make it sound as if you've been infected with "Booth cooties," Angela said as she tried to get herself under control.

"Yes, that does sound ridiculous, I know but the biochemistry is real. People mate because their genetic make-up brings them together. That's all that happens."

"Brennan, I'm not going to tell you what to do but I do believe in one thing. You deserve to be happy. However you get there, is up to you. All you need to do is trust yourself and not be afraid. I'll bet if you followed your trail of happy moments in your life since you and Booth started working together, you will find that they lead you right back to him. That's got to be important. It's that string of happy moments that make you feel you have lived your life well. That's all that matters. Everything else is just a detail that may or may not even be relevant."

"I know you think the human condition is manipulating you into doing something that you've decided you don't want to or can't do. I know how much you hate being manipulated against your will. You're one of the most intelligent people I've ever met. Having a smart brain is one of the most important things in the world to have but, sometimes, it's just in the way. All right, end of lecture. I've got work that Cam needed done ASAP," Angela said. She leaned over and gave her hilariously confused friend a hug. Brennan never ceased to amaze her.

Angela left to get back to work and Brennan grabbed the papers she had needed from her desk before returning to the platform to finish her skeletal exam. While she finished up her morning's allotment of work, she allowed herself to ponder several points that Angela had raised in their discussion. She had been instructed to follow the happy and significant moments in her life over the past few years.

There were many small moments but the biggest ones were finding her mother's remains and then her killer. She reconnected with her father and brother, both now out of jail and able to continue their own lives. They had all been able to enjoy last Christmas as a family together again for the first time in 16 years. Even though the experience at the Checker Box had gone horribly wrong, being able to sing and relive a happy and carefree childhood memory with her friends there to share the moment was one she would always remember for the good parts. She also couldn't discount the moments when she had needed a strong shoulder to lean on and was comforted by all those "guy" hugs.

Angela was right. Booth had been an important part of all of those moments over the past three years. Many of those moments simply wouldn't have happened at all if he hadn't been there. She concluded that she still wasn't sure what to do about her feelings for Booth, biochemically triggered by nature or otherwise accepted as her own. She would just have to take things one day at a time.

Lunch with Booth went well and she was relieved that the strange feelings of awkwardness and tension from the past few weeks were gone. It really seemed as if their relationship was back to normal with the addition of something new that was just beginning to form. Their bickering was again within the boundaries of playful banter, much to the amusement of the on-looking strangers that observed them at the diner that day.

A few weeks later, Todd Driscoll was successfully tried on the reduced charge of manslaughter as a lack of evidence wouldn't support a more serious charge. His sentence of 5 years in custody also included his mandatory participation in a drug rehab program. He received a concurrent sentence of an additional 3 years for his attack on Booth and possession of drugs. Due to his heavy and extensive of drug use, he was found to have AIDs among several other medical issues but at least he would be able to receive the treatment he needed while in prison.

Although Brennan usually avoided funerals, she decided to attend Greg Winters memorial service in Chicago and took the opportunity to reconnect with several old friends and acquaintances. She was glad to know that Todd was now receiving treatment for his problems and medical issues but knew the rest was up to him.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the wait in posting. Lost my train of thought until I was able to refresh my inspiration by watching the new London episodes. We'll never think of mountain climbing in the same way after that!!


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

A sunny Saturday morning found Booth standing at his living room window practically twiddling his thumbs with mind numbing boredom. It had been a busy few months and just when he finally had the time to enjoy a real weekend, he couldn't decide what he wanted to do. He almost envied Bones' source of extra work with the Limbo collection.

With that thought, he snorted to himself. He was definitely spending too much time with his partner. It seemed to him that she spent all of her time working. Even her favorite fun activities involved what to Booth was just more work. Sure, he had a desk full of files with minor paperwork to finish up, but that could wait 'til Monday.

He knew he couldn't beg Rebecca for a few hours with Parker since they were out of town until Sunday night visiting her parents for the Thanksgiving weekend. He decided to call Bones. Maybe they could have lunch somewhere or see a movie.

He reached down to the couch cushion beside him to grab the cordless phone and dialed her cell number. He listened to Bones' cell connect to her voice mail. "_You have reached Dr. Temperance Brennan. It is Saturday Nov 29, and I will be unavailable to return your call until approximately 2:30 pm Washington time. Please leave a message and I will get back to you as soon as I can. Booth, if this is an emergency that can't wait until after 2:30, I'm sure you can find me if you must_."

Booth didn't leave a message and ended the call. Never one to pass up a challenge, he would just have to figure out what she was up to. The cure for his boredom had just been handed to him. He knew Bones would come through for him. Hey, what are partners for, he smiled to himself.

A small thought knocked at his conscience for consideration that she might not see it in the same light when he found her but she'd get over it. She sometimes had funny ideas about her privacy. Well, he wasn't the one who barged into his bathroom while he was relaxing after his stressful 'funeral'.

He chuckled to himself with the memory but sobered when he also recalled the pain that 'funeral' incident had caused. He was thankful that he and Bones had been able to work past it and remembering the kiss they had shared during the case that involved her foster brother and missing high school teacher brought the smile back.

Feeling more positive about the day's prospects, he replayed the last couple of days in his mind in case she might have said something about this weekend. The holiday part didn't make much difference to her since she disregarded most of them, anyway. He knew that she had spent Thanksgiving evening with her family but was back to work on Friday. Booth had been invited to an old army buddy's home to join his family for the evening. It had been great to reconnect with a friend and reminisce about old times.

Starting with the most obvious first steps in his strategy, he called everyone he could think of but still no Bones or clue to help his search. Grabbing his jacket and keys, he headed out to his car to start checking possible locations. He checked for her car at her apartment and the Jeffersonian. He even drove past Zach's hospital parking lot. It was a nice day but cool with the promise of rain or snow later on so maybe she had gone jogging to take advantage of the nice weather before it changed for the worse.

After a half hour of driving along her usual routes with no luck, he decided to change his strategy. Although he really had no reason to be concerned about her safety, he decided to call in a favor from an FBI dispatcher to trace her cell phone's GPS chip. The trace provided an address near a community park in the city's eastern quadrant that he remembered having taken Parker to once. Maybe she had found a new location to go jogging.

As he drove closer to the address he was given, he noticed that it was quite busy as people took advantage of the day while it lasted. As soon as he noticed what one small crowd in the distance were doing, he knew exactly what Brennan was up to today.

A large space about 20 feet square was roped off like a boxing ring and a couple of SCA armoured fighters were currently exchanging blows. He parked his car and walked over to the mixed group of costumed spectators and members of the public whose interest had been caught by the unexpected event.

Besides those watching the current match, a few armoured fighters were practicing sword swings against an obliging wooden power pole and a few others were in the process of having their armour and weapons inspected for safety. He exchanged greetings with a few of the people he had met a few months previously at the Maryland campground. He scanned the crowd for his partner but couldn't see her. He instinctively knew she had to be there.

He focussed his attention back on the fighters in the ring that he remembered was called the "eric". The story he had been told was that during the early days of the SCA, the entire fighting field during war events had been marked by a long red strip of cloth affectionately named "Eric the Red" eventually shortened to just "eric". Apparently, for a short time, there had also been yellow and white zones with corresponding strips of cloth named "Yellow Peril' and "White Russian" respectively.

The fighters within the eric were evenly matched but unidentifiable due to all the gear they wore. One definitely seemed to be winning and after a few minutes of watching, it suddenly dawned on him that the one winning was Bones. He realized that the one effective way of hiding in this crowd was under a helm. Once he had recognized her movements, he realized that he should have known her by the design on her shield, a rose surrounded by wavy lines that represented her SCA last name of Rosenmere.

Wow! She was good. He was impressed. He might still be wary of giving her a gun but she definitely knew how to handle a sword. She might say she was rusty but it was easy to see how she had been capable of winning a crown tournament, even if it was a long time ago. He had taken fencing in college and although he didn't brag about it whenever Bones' martial arts experience came up, he knew he had just as much experience, if not more - thanks to his extensive army and FBI combat training.

"Amelia, lift that shield. You know better than to fall for that trick," chastised a familiar voice from the surrounding crowd as he reminded her to ignore feints to her knee that left her upper body exposed to more dangerous hits.

Brig. Gen. Ripley, aka Duke Sir Randalf, continued to call out pointers and terse reprimands as the two fighters whaled on each other with their copiously duct-taped rattan swords. Brennan fought with a broad sword and round shield while her opponent fought with a broad sword in one hand and a shorter version meant to be a dagger or short sword in the other.

He overheard someone in the crowd discussing the fighting styles and learned that fighting with two weapons without a shield was called Florentine style no matter what the two weapons were. He remembered from his fencing experience that this originally meant fighting with two rapiers.

The match lasted a few minutes more before Brennan's opponent scored a strike to her lower back with a butt wrap swing and she succeeded in striking out both of her opponent's legs within the next few seconds. This was followed by a "killing" blow to his head that caused the fighter to concede defeat by falling dramatically over on his back. He flopped around with jerky motions to the delight of the audience that laughed at the display of deliberately bad acting. After offering a hand to help her opponent to stand, they saluted each other with their swords and left the eric as Duke Randalf called two other names to take their places.

Brennan revealed a flushed and sweat drenched face when she removed her helm, tucked it under her arm and accepted a just-opened bottle of water from someone in the crowd as she moved towards a large duffel bag on top of a nearby picnic table. She took a drink from her bottle as she set her helm down and grabbed a towel from her bag. Feeling eyes on her, she glanced around and noticed Booth looking intently in her direction while leaning against a nearby parking lot light pole.

To allay the instant assumption seen on her face that he was there to take her away to a crime scene somewhere, he walked towards her and quickly said, "Hey, Bones, impressive fight. Oh, don't worry. We don't have any new cases and there's nothing urgent. I just wondered where you were when I couldn't track you down. You weren't answering your cellphone."

"So how did you find...," she paused puzzling over Booth's unexpected presence at the fight practice. An explanation came to mind and an expression of surprise and indignation crossed her face,"you GPS'd my phone, Booth? I knew you could find me if it was important but you just said there was nothing urgent. You should have left a message. I would have called you back in..." she grabbed her watch from her bag to check the time,"in one hour and 48 minutes. If you were interested in coming to a fight practice, you should have said something," she replied. She dribbled some of her bottled water on her face to dilute the salty sweat stinging her eyes and wiped it off with her towel.

She removed her dusty tabard that had obviously seen many battles to reveal the thick leather neck collar and the canvas and chain mail gambeson that consisted of pockets for lexan plastic plates and buckles for attaching the other components of body armour. Considering how many pieces there were, it was amazing that she was able to move with the ease and grace just witnessed in the fighting eric.

"Good afternoon, Agent Booth," said an amused Duke Randalf as he approached from the nearby crowd.

"Good afternoon, sir. Training the troops, I see," Booth replied, politely shaking his offered hand.

"You never know when the King might need good fighters. I recall the Queen's garden gnome is still being held for ransom. Amelia was telling me earlier how much she missed the unique exercise SCA fighting provided. Now that you're here, I'm sure you would like to armour up and give it a try. You didn't really have a chance to test any armor at the war last summer. We always have lots of extra armour for people to borrow. I'm sure our Amelia here can show you the basics," he said, good naturedly with a voice that carried the subtle undertone of command that he was, no doubt, well accustomed to using.

"Sure, I'd be happy to. Come on, Booth. After all, you said there was nothing urgent, right?" Brennan said with a devious smirk, knowing his pride wouldn't let him get away without giving it an honest try.

Booth followed Bones over to a large pile of armour. He thought to himself about the old saying, "be careful what you wish for...". This should be a good cure for his boredom. He actually had wanted to experience for himself what armour was like to wear. Who knew, he might even enjoy it if he didn't get hurt while someone was trying to 'kill' him.

He had a vague fleeting thought about busmen's holidays and stifled a groan. He should have known following Bones would get him involved is some aspect of work, namely keeping himself in one piece. This didn't seem quite the same thing as visiting the gym for a workout. In their line of work, few criminals ever came quietly and he was often an unwilling recipient of their intent to injure and maim him.

Right, this was for 'fun'. Hopefully, Bones wouldn't hurt him too much although her expression seemed a little too happy at the prospect of his "education". He also remembered how efficiently she had dispatched her last opponent.

An hour later, he had gone through several weapon styles, sword swings and combinations. His opponents included the nearby abused power pole, Bones and a few of the other fighters. He could understand now what Bones had meant when she referred to the activity's benefit as exercise. He was definitely going to be stiff tomorrow. It did provide an excellent work out.

"Bones, I'm actually surprised to see you out here. I had thought you weren't interested in this group anymore. Especially after you said how illogical and sexist all the focus on knights and maidens needing their protection was," Booth said, as he removed the borrowed armour and returned them to the pile. He definitely enjoyed the learning opportunity but the experience of wearing old armour, especially with the multiple layers of old sweat and grime reminded him of some of his old hockey equipment. The smell of some pieces could knock even his ever-so-colorful socks off. Some of it, like the gauntlets, even started out as old hockey gloves.

"I really was only interested in the fighting aspect for the exercise, Booth. It doesn't mean I'm joining the group again and, yes, I still think the medieval period was very irrational. The principles of the feudal system, the strict religious culture and code of honor would be impossible to recreate with any degree of accuracy. The SCA is based on a myth that's closer to a fantasy novel than real life. It was fun when I was younger and I don't mind visiting occasionally but I am much happier living in the real world with more reasonable cultural standards." Brennan replied as she lugged her bag to her car with Booth assisting with the larger items that didn't fit in the duffel. She got in, started her car and drove off after a quick, "See you later, call me at the lab at 6:00," as they had made plans to meet for dinner and a movie later on.

Booth reached his vehicle and noticed something unexpected as he sat behind the wheel. A large box with a small mailing tube tied to it and tagged "To Booth, From Amelia" sat on the passenger side seat. His natural wariness kicked in but after checking it over, decided there was nothing to worry about. He opened the tube and removed the coiled piece of paper inside. He unrolled the scroll to reveal a beautifully calligraphed and illuminated letter with Viking symbols and motifs surrounding the writing:

Greetings, my lord Booth,

On the Eve of November 29, A.S. XLII, an occasional informal gathering,

known as Grendall's Tavern, will commence in celebration of the bounties

of the harvest season.

With the happy news that Their Majesties, King Ragnar and Queen Alexa,

will be gracing the Tavern with their presence, they have requested this

invitation be extended to yourself and Countess Amelia Rosenmere.

In hopes that you may be able to attend, Their Majesties look forward

to presenting you with a token of their heartfelt appreciation for your

recent services for the safety of their subjects.

Please contact Countess Amelia for further details.

Signed,

Sir Bruce de Corville (Tavern autocrat)

He put down the scroll and opened the large box to find ...medieval clothes suitable, he assumed, for receiving "a token" from Their Majesties. They didn't need to thank him. It had been his job, Booth thought as he grabbed his cell phone to call Bones...


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"Countess Amelia, why is there a box in my car with your name on it?" asked Booth when she answered her cell phone.

"Oh...good, you got your clothes. I hope you like what I picked out for you," she answered. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything but it was supposed to be a surprise by royal request. If you hadn't found me, I was going to call you this afternoon to tell you about it, but as it happened, I didn't need to."

"While you were practicing your sword swings, I had one of the General's staff put the box in your car with my door key so you don't have to worry that someone broke in. I know it's short notice and I'll understand if you don't want to go but Helen (that's Queen Elexa) asked for my help to see if we would come to the Tavern tonight. It's expected to be a small gathering of about 40 or 50 people and really informal. They didn't know they would be able to attend this event until yesterday."

"They don't need to give us anything for doing our jobs," he replied, feeling a little uncertain about the evening. Of course, it was always appreciated when people they helped offered their thanks but this situation came with a set of protocols that were still unfamiliar territory.

"Yes, I know, but this is something they want to do in Sir Stephen's memory. His disappearance and then, having the person responsible, a former king no less, brought to justice is a unique opportunity to respond in a medievally appropriate way. Recognizing and rewarding chivalrous behaviour is all part of the SCA world. You were also injured, remember. I know it wasn't serious but I warned you about the theatrical aspect of the SCA," Brennan explained.

"All right. I guess if it means that much to them. So what do they want to give us?" he asked.

"Sorry, that's a surprise by that royal request I mentioned. You will just have to wait until tonight," she replied.

"If this is one of those presentations at court like you had to do this summer, I expect a full briefing on what I'm supposed to do," Booth insisted. "I'll pick you up at 6:30 at your place. I assume there will be food, right?"

"Yes, Booth. There will be food. I'm sure you'll find something you will enjoy. In fact, SCA events are well known for having more food than a normal person would expect to eat in a single meal. Even with my restrictions, I should have no problems finding selections for a full meal. You might think that there wouldn't be many vegetable dishes on the menu but you would be surprised. I'll see you later," she replied with a chuckle and ended the call.

A few hours later, Booth arrived at Brennan's door wearing the contents of the large box found in his car. He found her selections comfortable and hoped this time there wouldn't be any damage to fix like his last costume. He wore a loose fitting white cotton shirt with long full sleeves under a quilted black suede Renaissance doublet vest fastened down the front with leather lacing. Black trousers, tall black boots and the usual accessories of belt and pouch finished the costume. There had also been a knee length black and red lined cape but he left it in the car. If this was an old Errol Flynn movie, he'd fit right it. All that was missing was a rapier at his hip. It was just as well as he remembered that weapons were considered very bad manners when in the presence of royalty.

When she opened her door at his knock, she was surprised to find herself overcome at how well Booth wore the clothes she had picked out for him. She had a feeling this style would suit him and it did. He looked good, better than good. The shirt and vest seemed to show off his wide shoulders that she knew were very well developed and kept in excellent condition. Perhaps seeing him in action at fight practise earlier had triggered her physical response to his masculine nature. She felt an undeniable urge to reach out and ...

"Stop that! Breathe Temperance, breathe," she told herself as he walked past her into the living room following her slightly delayed invitation to come in.

She, however, wasn't quite ready and stood at the front door in her bathrobe. Feeling as if her sudden thoughts must be clearly apparent, she adjusted her robe collar closed as if to ward off a chill. This was getting out of hand as her ability to compartmentalize her sudden awareness of Booth's male attributes was deteriorating alarmingly. Just when she thought the romantic imprinting she had recognized after their second kiss had worn off, something like this would happen to cause it to re-emerge as if it had only being lurking under the surface of her mind.

This was ridiculous. Even though, he himself had told her that the right person would come along if she only allowed herself to be open to it, he couldn't have been talking about himself as the hopeful prospect...Could he? She was in control of her relationship with Booth, not her physical body. They were work partners and friends. She couldn't allow anything else, especially if Booth felt the way he seemed to about his "line".  
She again felt like she was being held hostage by the primitive portion of her brain concerned only with perpetuation of the species. She had the fleeting thought that maybe her fixation with Booth would go away if they had sex. No, that wasn't logical. They were too compatible a match. If one kiss felt great and the next felt like heaven (if there was a heaven, of course), "sleeping" with Booth probably wasn't going to help but just add fuel to an already threatening inferno.

She also needed to stay mindful of the revelation about his father's drinking problem and its affect on his two sons. Booth probably didn't realize it but she was just as familiar with what this living situation can do to a child as he was. She had lived in a dozen homes as a teenager and almost every other foster child she lived with came from a home where alcohol or another addiction had caused them to be removed for their safety.

Despite her aversion to the over generalizations of psychology, she observed on her own several common behaviors in her foster siblings. They always seemed to doubt their own abilities and, even if they denied it, they acted as if their parent's need to overcome disappointment in life with an addiction was their fault. There was always that debilitating element of shame and responsibility that continued to rule their lives.

She also, had her own personal experiences of having been placed in a couple of homes where an addiction had been hidden from the foster care screening process. Her stays in these homes had been mercifully short, since her strong personality tolerated only so much before reporting to her case worker any abuse to herself or the other children in the home.

Booth seemed to be one of the lucky ones and had been able to have a mostly successful adult life but she could now recognize that his continued protection of his brother Jared was a lingering symptom of that time in his life. She was now more determined than ever to be more of a friend to him than someone who just wanted to share his bed.

"Sorry, I just need a few minutes. I'll be right back," she said finally in a mostly coherent manner as she gratefully escaped to her bedroom. She quickly pulled on her dress and put up her hair in a crocheted metallic thread netting called a snood attached with hair pins and her circlet. Her dress was an eight gored cotehardie, now commonly known as "princess" style, that had a wide scooped but not low neckline and long narrow sleeves. Her form fitting dress was made of a light weight rose pink brocade with a silky sheen that draped beautifully on her slim form. The long white leather belt she had received when she was knighted, becoming a Dame of the Realm, sat loosely at her hips and the large linked golden chain received with her belt was worn as a necklace. Soft white leather boots and a burgundy and fake fur edged cloak completed her outfit.

She came out to the living room and at the sound of her rustling skirts, Booth turned to see her. He was always caught off guard by how beautiful she was and even though he expected the transformation, it still took his breath away. All he wanted to do was stand there and look at her...well...for starters and felt a warm flush rise to his face and ...other places.

To cover his reaction, he focused his attention on a few snapshots he noticed on a bookcase shelf beside where he stood. He picked up one that showed a happily smiling young Brennan in what must have been a Halloween costume as there was a carved pumpkin beside her. She had on a wild frizzy wig and a flowery muumuu dress. A younger healthier Driscoll stood beside her in a droopy rumpled suit and loose half done tie.

"I haven't seen these pictures before. Is that you and Driscoll when you were young?" he asked as he handed it to Brennan who smiled as she saw which one she had been given.

"Yes, Todd's adoptive mother, Grace, gave them to me when I went back to Chicago for Greg Winters' memorial service," Brennan said. "That one is from Halloween the year of our reign. He talked me into wearing that ridiculous wig and dress we borrowed from Grace and he promised me that everyone would know who we were. I, of course, had no idea, but Todd said it was a joke on his nickname Fang. He was right. Everyone thought we were very humorous and kept calling me Felicia Dilly or something like that."

"That's Phyllis Diller the comedienne, Bones," Booth said, bursting out in a laugh he was unable to hold back. "Come on, Countess Amelia, we should be going. I'll explain on the way."

She replaced the photograph beside the others on the shelf, grabbed her change bag, and followed Booth as they left the apartment. On her way out, she also handed him a large picnic basket she referred to as their "feast gear" as it was customary to bring your own cutlery and dishes to SCA events.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
More to come...soon! Happy New Year, Everyone!

Marte


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Brioninn and Mshrmit for their suggestions of SCA names for Booth. Hope they like how I made use of them.

Warning: Use of some minor post-BtB spoilers included.

Chapter 10

By following Brennan's directions, they soon approached the location of that evening's event, Grendall's Tavern. It was being held at an old log building built more than 75 years ago by a men's service club as a retreat and meeting hall in one of the city's natural park areas. It was full of old rustic charm with a covered deck around three sides of the building full of old Adirondack chairs, tables and wicker furniture now covered with protective tarps ready for winter. The old hall fit perfectly in it's natural setting on a wooded hill, an island of wilderness, overlooking and surrounded by the now sprawling city beyond.

When they arrived, they were immediately greeted by Angela and Hodgins who were among several others just arriving. Knowing this was a surprise for Booth, Brennan quickly explained that Angela had been in her office when she had gotten the call from Alexa. When Angela found out what was being planned, she asked to come along. She had recently broken up with Roxie but Hodgins had agreed to go with her as just a friend and was a good sport about wearing a costume.

Angela and Hodgins had chosen their costumes for that evening from a huge collection at his family estate. Apparently, his family had a long history of lavish entertaining. Several generations up to his parents had held masquerade balls every year as fund raisers for their favorite charities. He had decided it probably wasn't appropriate to mention that besides his wealth, he had also inherited a minor baronetcy with the death of his parents. He had actually been "to see the Queen" a few times already during his life, but mentioning that here seemed strangely out of place. The SCA was a place where everyone could be what they wanted to be regardless of their own realities.

He just realized that he had never told Angela about the title when they had been engaged. It had just never come up. It was now mostly a title in name only as there was really no land connected to it. What used to be a family manor had been put into a trust and had a current life as a community college with annual endowments and scholarships from the family fortune. His family had been resident in the United States since the mid-1800's and the title was actually connected to a great uncle on his mother's side of the family.

Angela had chosen a simple bar wench style peasant outfit with white cotton chemise with the drawstring neckline set low across her shoulders, black leather laced vest and dark brown gathered skirt. Hodgins was fearlessly resplendent in a red, gold and green tartan kilt that he swore he had a right to wear as it had belonged to an ancestor. Of more dubious authenticity was a rhinoceros codpiece instead of the expected sporran. A matching tartan baldric draped over one shoulder and pinned to the opposite waist with a traditional Scottish silver pebble brooch partially covered a large white shirt similar to Booth's.

He got many positive comments from others who seemed to appreciate his sense of humour. He was soon introduced to a gentleman who wore a Henry VIII style Tudor costume with a "cod"piece in the shape of a fish. It seemed that the enjoyment of puns was a common affliction among SCA participants.

Angela and Hodgins had decided against choosing different names and simply used their given names for the evening. With Brennan answering to Countess Amelia, it was confusing enough.

"My lady Amelia, you look gorgeous as ever and my lord Booth, you are lucky I've decided to take a break from relationships for a while. Otherwise, I'd be buckling your swash without mercy," Angela gushed and flirted on their way into the hall's main great room that contained the usual men's club/lodge style furnishings with overstuffed leather chairs, walls lined with filled bookshelves, mounted animal heads, old framed pictures and a display case of old trophies. The best feature of the room besides the exposed logs and beams was a massive stonework fireplace that had a roaring fire laid in it.

The room was dimly lit as modern lights were left off, except for a wash of light that filtered in from the busy kitchen and bar area. It took a few moments for most people to adjust to the light given off by an eclectic mix of candles, floor and table candelabras and lanterns. Several colorful banners had been hung around the room to create the illusion of a medieval hall. One large banner with a wavy blue and white line design surrounded by a gold laurel wreath hung directly behind the head table that Booth remembered was the Atlantia kingdom banner. The last time he had seen it was behind the thrones in the royal pavilion at that summer's war event. The individual banners of their Majesties were placed on either side to indicate their presence at tonight's event.

The foursome joined the other new arrivals as they all claimed places at the large U of tables. Between introducing themselves and greeting others, Angela and Brennan set up their place settings from the contents of the picnic baskets they had brought with them. Booth and Hodgins took care of purchasing their first round of drinks from the busy bar that had been set up to accept fake coins that people bought at the troll table near the door with their feast admission.

The tables soon became filled with a mix of goblets and drinking horns, wood trenchers, bowls, daggers and spoons. Several people also had their own salt cellars, pepper grinders and nutmeg graters. Forks were considered just barely acceptable as they had been adopted at the very end of the SCA time frame of about 1650 CE. Those that wished to include this utensil often compromised by using two pronged meat forks instead. A lot of feast food was meant to be eaten with either a large spoon or just fingers and daggers with which to spear things. Often, bowls of warm scented water were made available for people to dip their fingers in after a particularly messy dish, like ribs or roast chicken. Heated water was ladled from a large vat into their own clean bowls or, if needed, borrowed ones from the kitchen. If one of the serving volunteers was available later on, they would wander the tables with an empty pot for the used water to be discarded.

When most people had settled themselves, Sir Bruce de Corville, the autocrat and the evening's Herald, welcomed everyone and introduced those seated at the head table. He began, of course, with their Majesties King Ragnar and Queen Alexa, members of their retinue, the local group's seneschal (club president) and his lady and proceeded down the line in order of peerage.

Since their Majesties were present, it was expected that there would be some form of Court planned that evening and it was announced that it would follow the main portion of the meal before the serving of the dessert course. He concluded with an invitation to a man in a monk's cowl and robe he called Father Sebastian who sat at the back of the room to offer grace. The room fell silent as a short grace in Latin was slowly chanted in a deep voice to the hushed crowd. With his required service fulfilled, the man seemed to fade back into the room's gloom and soon many forgot even seeing him.

Earlier, when everyone had settled themselves at their places and were busy talking to their table mates, someone came around with rolled scrolls tied with ribbon that when opened, revealed the menu for the evening. There were several courses or removes that each consisted of enough food for a single meal on its own. The one exception was the final dessert course.

The first course consisted of raw vegetables, boiled eggs, sliced apples, bowls of walnuts and hazelnuts, and cheeses with small bread rolls followed by a spiced leek and mushroom soup and smoked salmon. All of the various dishes were served in buffet style for everyone except the head table who had their own personal servers. After a short interval that featured the entertainment of a trio of chamber musicians, the next remove consisted of pork ribs, herbed roast chicken, roasted "New World" potatoes and grilled mixed squashes. Other entertainment between the courses included a reading from the Beowulf saga, a quartet of madrigal singers and a harpist.

The secret to getting through all the food at an event like this was to eat small portions as there was sure to be something else to sample later on. Bread trenchers prepared from day old bread loaves cut in half and left to dry were also available for those who wished to eat in the most authentic manner. The dry bread soaked up any meat juices and sauces that were often eaten at the end of the meal. Historically, these would have been given to the poor who would wait outside the hall to receive the collected used trenchers as alms from the lord's head table.

After the third remove of venison stew, tourtiere and honey glazed rosemary mint turnips and carrots had been served and knowing that one more remove was on the way, Booth felt both uncomfortably full from all the food and a little nervous about his upcoming presentation at Court. He knew from experience that he only felt nervous if he was unprepared. Right, time to be briefed on his duties.

"My lady Amelia, you promised to tell me what I had to do at Court," he reminded her.

"There's really nothing to worry about, Booth. When our names are called during Court, we will approach their Majesties together from the open end of the tables. Before we approach, you will bow, I will curtsey and then we will walk up the aisle. It is customary to bow/curtsey again before kneeling on a pillow on the floor in front of them. They will give a little speech and do the presentation. If they want you to do something, they will tell you. When you are finished, it is customary to stand, bow to the King and kiss or bow over the hand of the Queen, walk three or four steps backwards and basically do everythng in reverse. We aren't first on the agenda so you will be able to see what the others do and you won't be the only one who is being summoned to your first Court," she explained.

"I was told that there was going to be dancing after the meal is cleared away. I expect to see both of you men showing off your dancing skills. You know, it is considered a point of chivalry and good manners for all fierce fighting men to show off their softer sides for the ladies," remarked Angela who looked with an almost serious stern expression at both Booth and Hodgins who exchanged a resigned but good natured grin.

"Yes, absolutely. Don't worry, my lords. The dance steps aren't that difficult and again, you certainly won't be the only ones who are new to them," added "Amelia" reassuringly.

As the evening's meal drew to a close, several people cleared their space on the table and several medieval board games, like Mancala, Nine Men's Morris, Tablero, Chess and others appeared. The last remove of the main meal consisted of tossed salad, cod casserole and biscuits but most people were full to bursting.

People began visiting around the room or refreshed their drinks at the bar. If the kitchen's sinks were available, some would choose to rinse off or wash their dishes. Most would simply pack them away for washing later at home. The custom of showing reverence for the Crown was also observed as everyone bowed or curtsied each time they crossed the space at the open end of the tables whether their Majesties were seated at the head table or not.

"My Lords and Ladies, pray attend. Court will commence in ten minutes. Anyone having business before the Court, please approach me immediately, thank you," announced Sir Bruce, when he stood and got everyone's attention from his place at one end of the head table.

At this time, those seated at the head table moved to mingle throughout the room while the tables were moved to allow sufficient space for their Majesties and their retinue to be able to conduct court without having to reach over tables. Throne chairs were moved foreward and a few pillows were placed in front of them.

Sir Bruce opened court a few minutes later calling for everyone to rise as the royal procession returned to their places at the end of the aisle between the two lines of banquet tables.

"The Court of King Ragnar and Queen Elexa will now commence." When Sir Bruce received the cue from the King, the populace was given leave to be seated.

"My Queen and I welcome all of you to this celebration of thanksgiving and We promise a short but hopefully entertaining session of Court this evening," King Ragnar began with the populace dutifully laughing at his 'promise'. "We wish tonight to show our gratitude to several good gentles deserving of Our recognition for the contribution of their gifts in service to Our kingdom."

Sir Bruce began the process of calling each person's name for each to approach their Majesties to receive their award. As each returned to their seats a cheer was lead by Sir Bruce before continuing on to the next order of business. The first few awards were for people receiving some of the higher chivalric and peerage awards while the majority of those called came forward to receive their AoA (Award of Arms) that elevated them to the title of Lord or Lady. AoA recipients also gained the right to register their own names and heraldic arms such as those reproduced on the banners decorating the hall that evening. This was generally the first level of advancement for an individual within the SCA society.

One distinction of SCA society is that there was, in theory, no nepotism as everyone earned their own awards. If the King and Queen had children, they were not automatically elevated to Prince or Princess or any such status because of who their parents were. Peerage entitlements were reserved for those that fulfilled specific rules.

After about a dozen awards with a couple of presentations and gifts for the Crown, the agenda came to the last order of business before the Court.

"We will conclude this evening with a very special award that has been brought to Our attention," spoke Queen Alexa as she and the King had alternated the giving of awards.

"As many of you may be aware, the fate of a long lost soul was revealed this past summer. We now know what happened that fateful day many years ago when Sir Stephen of Midlands, a frequent visitor and friend to Our kingdom, a gifted teacher of children and courteous and chivalrous peer of the realm disappeared from Our midst, never to return alive. The person found responsible for his demise has received his justice and his fate within the Known World will be dealt with in good time. In honor of Sir Stephen, the Crown wishes to call upon two guests here this evening to receive a special award of valour for their efforts in resolving this old tragic mystery."

"Countess Dame Amelia Rosenmere of Midlands and my lord Booth are invited to approach the court," announced Sir Bruce.

Booth and "Amelia" stood and moved to enter the aisle towards the thrones. On impulse, Booth stopped and offered his hand held in the air to "Amelia". She placed her hand lightly on his and gave him an appreciative smile. The touch of his hand sent a warmth through her felt down to her toes but, instead of being an unwelcome distraction, the connection steadied her as they gave their initial reverence together before they approached the King and Queen, bowed/curtsied again, brought their hands to their sides and kneeled on the pillows before them.

"The honorable efforts of these two people during their investigation of this foul deed was at no small danger to themselves. My lord Booth was assaulted and grievously wounded by the perpetrator of this crime but they were not deterred and the truth has been revealed. We feel this act deserves our recognition and each of these good gentles is being awarded the Shark's Tooth for their acts of valor for our Kingdom."

The Queen was handed two shark's tooth pendant necklaces by a nearby lady-in-waiting. She handed one to the King and together they placed the necklaces around the necks of Booth and "Amelia". The King held his hand to forestall the populace from their customary cheer for the recipients.

"As a legacy of our Reign, we have also created a new Champion of the Kingdom award in Sir Stephen's memory. From time to time from this day forth, it will be granted to any deserving individual as decided by the King of the day."

"It was brought to our attention that this gentleman, a visitor in our midst, has no title. We feel he is most deserving of our esteem and will be our first recipient. From this day forward, this most honorable, chivalrous and good gentleman will for all time be known as the Lord Alisdaire, the People's Protector," announced King Ragnar who then handed a beautifully illuminated scroll to a stunned Booth who stammered out his thanks.

Booth glanced at a happily smiling "Amelia" and with the whispered permission to stand from their Majesties, Booth shook the King's hand and kissed the Queen's hand while "Amelia" reciprocated with her thanks and received a hug from the Queen and a kiss on her hand from the King.

"Three cheers for the recipients of the Shark's Tooth and the Lord Alisdaire," called Sir Bruce. The surrounding tables erupted in enthusiastic cheers of "Huzzah" and "Hooray" as they had with all of the previous recipients.

Booth and "Amelia" retreated as the others had and returned to their seats to receive congratulations from Angela, Hodgins and others on their way by.

"As this concludes the court's business for this evening, Their Majesties give leave for all to enjoy the rest of tonight's activities. I have been informed by the kitchen that the dessert course will be laid out for all to sample throughout the evening. As soon as the tables are cleared and pushed back, dancing will commence with the musical accompaniment of our guest musicians," announced Sir Bruce soon after a couple of additional items of business had been taken care of. One of those last items had been the calling forth of the feastocrat, the cooks and servers for the crowd to give a very appreciative cheer for a job well done.

"So, what do you think about your award and your new title?" Amelia asked Booth as they followed the example of their neighbors and cleared away their dishes so the table could be moved out of the way.

"Well, it was definitely a surprise. I really don't know what to say," Booth responded looking as if he was thinking about something but didn't know how to ask politely without giving offense.

"Really, I had nothing to do with your new title," "Amelia" responded seeming to read his mind.

"Hey, Booth...I mean,...Lord Alisdaire, now you have a real title to go with that souvenir certificate you showed us when you got back from England," Angela piped up as she folded a tablecloth and used lightly soiled napkins to serve double duty as cushions for fragile items being packed into their basket.

"I'm not sure I deserve such an honor. We were just doing our jobs. I'm not even an actual member of this group," replied Booth, suddenly feeling that he hadn't really done all that much to warrant the esteem this group had bestowed upon him. It seemed that all of the other people who received awards during court must have done far more than they had. He simply got in the way of an arrow and pretty much followed Bones around. She even interrogated their suspect, albeit for logical reasons.

"Believe me, Booth. Member or not, you do," she said with a surprising amount of emotion as she grabbed a pile of their dishes to rinse in the kitchen before packing them away in the basket for cleaning later.

"Come on, Lord Alisdaire. This calls for celebratory libations," Hodgins said as he clapped Booth on the shoulder and headed to the bar to buy him a drink.

...tbc...


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

King Ragnar had issued an invitation, aka "royal decree", that evening that every able man was to dance at least once. With this "encouragement", everyone soon became familiar with the simple steps and movements of Pavans, Bransles ('Brawls') and Galliards. It was also a great way to meet the ladies.

A short time after the conclusion of Court, the great room was soon arranged to allow enough space for those waiting to dance. Tables and chairs were set up on the side of the room near the fireplace for those who wished to visit, take a break from dancing or play board or other games. With cleanup finished, the evening returned to more enjoyable pursuits.

Most dances were circle or line dances with simple movements that usually allowed participants to flirt while they stepped, kicked, jumped or circled one another. There was much laughing and, thankfully, not many "stepped-on" toes. Actually there was more risk to a woman's long skirts than her feet, especially when both hands were needed for dancing. The live music accompaniment of the harpist and a trio that alternated the playing of a Celtic bodhran drum, a recorder, flute and guitar also added much to the experience.

The new "Lord Alisdaire" had intended to dance with "Amelia", but his first partner was Queen Alexa. Angela was delighted to accept the King who gallantly asked her for the first dance. Not to be left partnerless for long, Hodgins and "Amelia" were immediately partnered to one of the Queen's young ladies-in-waiting and a King's squire respectively. Booth, of course, saw "Amelia" in passing as the dances tended to rotate the circle, move in sequence across the floor or involve a cross-wise temporary exchange in partners.

During one partner exchange that suddenly brought them together unexpectedly, their eyes met and both felt a spark pass between them when their hands touched. This momentary eye contact did not escape the gleeful notice of Angela, ever watchful of her favorite romantic project. Of course, any time Angela was able to dance with Hodgins, their contact was fraught with meaning as well. That story was definitely not over, despite recent events that seemed destined to derail their own happiness together.

A couple of dances went by before Booth found himself near "Amelia" but she was partnered to yet another gentleman. He noticed that he had been envious and, dare he think "jealous", of the attentions of the other men who had been lucky enough to be "Amelia's" dance partners and when the opportunity presented itself he was quick to catch her hand for the next dance. She had also been waiting for an opportunity to dance with Booth but she noticed that he had been just as busy as she was.

One popular dance, a bransle known as a Montarde, seemed a little slower and involved simple footwork with a format of two parallel lines of 4 or 6 alternating male/female with a small space between everyone. While everyone stepped to the left with the music, the person at the end of the line would interweave themselves in the opposite direction and around the moving line while, of course, taking the opportunity to flirt along the way. A second part of the dance had everyone in turn down the line, one after another, do a series of kicks while making a 360 degree circle in place. The added fun with this one was that the music began at a slow pace but sped up near the end.

"Are you enjoying the dancing, my lord?""Amelia" asked, a little out of breath and showing a very healthy and attractive glow to her cheeks from all the exercise.

"Yes. It's one way to work off all that food," he replied, as he gently held her eyes as she took her turn to weave around him and the others down the line. He surprised himself with the sudden impulse to pull her into his arms and... had to throw a mental cup of cold water on himself.

When they were directed to their places for the start of the next dance called "Strip the Willow", "Amelia" mentioned that often this dance, still very popular in the SCA, required that the men had to dance in full armour.

"You'd think the noise of all that clanking armour would be too loud to hear the music," Booth observed, as they watched the other couples complete a movement of side skipping down the centre of two parallel lines before their own turn to do the same came up.

With the end of that dance, after almost an hour and a half of energetic activity, a welcome break was announced. This lead to a rush on the bar for replacement fluids and many took the opportunity to sample the desserts that varied from several kinds of pies, fruit trifle and bread pudding. Booth and Hodgins offered to stand in line while the ladies headed off to join their own line at the washroom facilities to "powder their noses" or more exactly to "mop their brows".

"So, how are things between you and our Lord Alisdaire? You two were burning holes into each other every chance you got out there, my dear Countess. The two of you during the presentation and that last dance were beyond hot," Angela asked as she tried for the umpteenth time to get Brennan to open up on her favorite subject when they re-entered the great room together.

"Angela, I keep telling you. I know I kind of panicked a while ago but that situation we discussed is under control. He's my partner and my friend, and not with that "sexual benefits" option you're fond of, either," Brennan answered. She had to admit that she was feeling unsettled this evening and she desperately needed to get away for a moment by herself to clear her head. "I'm feeling very warm. I think I'll go outside for some fresh air. Please go on back. I won't be long."

"All right, sweetie. But don't stay out so long that you get a chill," Angela said, with a judicious amount of doubt and concern as she'd had a lot of experience trying to figure out the difference between what her friend said and actually felt.

Brennan found her way to the front door and stepped outside into the chilled but welcome fresh air. She moved past several people out for a smoke break who parted the way for her. Smoking was both not medieval and not permitted in the lodge.

The weather had indeed turned and a skiff of snow already covered the ground. The overcast sky had that "snow storm" glow as the city lights beyond the lodge's hill reflected and scattered off the low clouds to illuminate everything. The cool air, just a couple of degrees below freezing, soon revived her. A boardwalk that extended to the edge of the hill through a tall stand of trees, ready and waiting for winter, drew her to a spot under a nearby tree.

The snow began to fall again with large heavy wet flakes. She had always loved that quality of stillness in the air and the fresh smell during a snow storm. Her thoughts returned to her current inner dilemma. Booth's affect on her this evening seemed to capture her in an unwanted, or at least inexperienced, net of emotion.

"Where's "Amelia"?" Booth asked when he and Hodgins returned to their table with their drinks.

"She stepped outside for some fresh air a few minutes ago. I was just going to go follow her and take out her cloak," Angela said.

"Here, let me. I'll take it out to her," Booth said, as he grabbed his own cape and draped Brennan's cloak over his arm.

"Thanks, Booth," Angela said, with a sly smile that Hodgins caught. She responded with a "what can I do" kind of shrug that didn't fool him one bit.

Booth left the building and threaded his way through the "Smoker's Club". He spotted Brennan in the distance and couldn't help but notice that the falling snow and sky glow beyond added an ethereal quality to her beautiful silhouette. He came up behind her and placed her cloak around her shoulders.

"Thanks," she answered softly with a backwards glance in his direction and grabbed her collar to draw in the thick material that still held on to the warmth of the hall. She tried unsuccessfully to suppress an involuntary shiver that travelled down her spine when his finger tips grazed her neck as the fabric settled around her.

"You know, if you stay out here much longer, we won't find you until spring thaw," Booth said lightly as he reached up to brush off the flakes that had quickly begun to accumulate on her shoulders.

At his touch, she turned to face him. She had been struggling with a decision and now felt unsure of how to bring up the topic but jumped in anyway.

"It was warm inside. I just needed some air," she explained, realizing it sounded a bit lame although true. "So which of your awards do you think Parker will like the best?"

"I'm thinking the shark's tooth will win that contest. Titles don't really have much meaning for kids," Booth answered.

"I agree that sharks have a certain popularity with children of almost all ages. I think in this case, you might be surprised at his reaction. I happen to know he is very proud of his father being an FBI agent. He may not understand all of the other things you do, but protecting people is what he remembers. I know because he told me once when I asked what he thought your job was and I could hear the pride in his voice. The fact that your new title means that very thing, I think, will definitely have meaning for him," she said, trying to follow the play of expressions on Booth's face.

"Yeah, maybe," he looked into her eyes and wondered how she could seem to understand his son so well but need his help so often to understand other people during their investigations.

"I'm not surprised that Alexa and Ragnar created that title for you. You are an excellent example of the ideals of chivalry that the SCA is based on but you know, it's not always a good thing. Sometimes, you concern me greatly when you exemplify those ideals a little too closely," she said, seeming to heap on the compliments with one breath and take them away with the next.

"Why thank you...umm, what do you mean? What do you think is wrong?" Booth said, feeling confused at both the compliments and the apparent criticism.

"Booth, when you took that bullet meant for me and supposedly died, I was so angry with you for that self sacrificing trait of yours. I know logically, it was just an accident of timing and trajectory but I began to think that you took that bullet on purpose because, for some reason, you believed that your life was less important than mine...that your life was only worth something if it saved someone else."

"That's all very admirable but you are important just for being who you are and I don't think you believe that. I think one of the reasons I had those memory problems was because I couldn't figure out why you might feel that way. You have always seemed so strong. Then I met Jared and everything fell into place. Booth...it's not your fault your father drank," Brennan said, looking into his eyes as she saw his emotions move from confusion to defensive anger.

"Bones, are you trying to psychoanalyze me because I told you about my dad? Since when did you decide psychology was a valid science because, I have to tell you, Sweets and Gordon Gordon aren't the only shrinks I've had to explain and justify my life to," he said, as he tried to control emotions he thought he had buried long ago.

"No, Booth, I still believe that psychology is flawed but it is based on observed behaviour albeit over-generalized and rife with assumptions. I believe I understand this about you now for the simple reason that I have observed this before, many times. Psychology says that children of alcoholics carry a burden of responsibility, guilt and shame all their lives. Well, some do and some don't. If it wasn't for you continuing to act as a safety net in Jared's life, I would have considered you one of the rare ones that were able to overcome all those negative influences of your childhood environment."

"What kind of home do you think Todd came from? He was an FAS (Fetal Alcohol Syndrome) baby, and I could name 16 other people I lived with in a span of 32 months. I'm sure you know that foster children often come from drug and alcohol addicted households. I know this about you because I've lived it, too. I understand why you protected your brother, even now, because I had to do the same thing for the children I lived with in two homes before I could talk my case worker into moving us," she said, as the painful memories resurfaced. Cold tears began to spill and seemed to freeze on her cheeks.

A shocked Booth reached up to Brennan's cheeks to wipe the tears from her face and realized that his face had its own collection of rivulets heading south as his own memories reawakened in his mind. Brennan returned the favour and gently brushed his cheek with her thumb with the exchange of a gentle smile.

"Your training as a soldier and then as an FBI agent reinforced the concept that you are expendable as long as you complete your mission. You are not expendable. You are just as special as anyone else. You are special to Parker and... and... you are special to me," she said, ending in a whisper and reached up to draw Booth into an awkward hug.

Booth's arms tightened around this woman who had taken over his life with her own unique brand of logic and love. At first, he wanted to completely reject his partner's personal assessment. He was afraid to think about whether any of it could be true. She always could strip him to his core with a glance or a word to break through illogical pretenses like a sword revealing naked truth.

Sure, his life had had more challenges than he wished but could he be that fragile, that reckless with his own life? His emotions cascaded in a circle through pain, anger, the memory of being powerless to save the ones he loved from the pain they experienced, the responsibility of being the one left to pick up the pieces and to remain vigilant and prepared for future threats.

A new realization had also just blind-sided him. He was used to thinking of himself and Bones as opposites that completed each other, especially in the work they did. He now realized that, in this one area of their lives, she was a kindred spirit who knew him. Every time in the past when he had experienced this kind of recognition, he felt the need to hold on to it but it kept slipping through the cracks as his pride tried to salvage his self respect. He had been trying for so long to find a way to show her how wonderful love could be that he had forgotten how strong his own well garrisoned fortress had become.

"Bones, I'm so sorry... " Booth started to say when he drew back from their embrace.

"No, Booth. I'm not looking for sympathy. I want you to realize that you deserve what you want in your life to be happy. You have a right to be proud of your accomplishments and not sacrifice them to "help" your brother. You are not flawed because you followed orders as a military sniper, couldn't save your brother and, I suspect, your mother from pain or your father from being the way he was," Brennan said as she looked into Booth's eyes, hoping to see if anything she had said had any impact and before she could stop herself, she added, "I don't think I could survive losing you again."

Booth pulled his gaze out of those two familiar pools of blue and the meaning of those last few words sank in. He placed his hand on her cheek and touched her lips lightly with his thumb. She closed her eyes for a moment surrendering to his touch. When she opened them, he had moved closer and was about to kiss her when she closed the distance herself to feel again the soft lips she had found herself daydreaming about for months. Their kiss, both passionate and tender, warmed them against the chill of the weather swirling around their joined figures as an awakened need increased its demands. After several moments, they stopped temporarily to exchange a smile and one of their famous gazes before being drawn together again.

Brennan realized in that moment that taking her own advice might be advantageous. She, too, deserved what she wanted to be happy. Now was the time to discover how to break certain laws of physics and eradicate inconvenient lines. They could work out other details later...much later.

Years later, when those who had witnessed the happy couple thought of that night's tavern event, they would remember the good food, the dancing and the camaraderie of friends but many would fondly remember the romantic silhouette of two people together, the distant tree and the magical backlit effect of the glow of the city lights and the falling snow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.

"Most definitely, not gay," spoke a quiet voice in the crowd around the lodge's steps.

"What was that, Father Sebastian?" asked the man standing next to him.

"They make a lovely couple, don't they?" the older man said.

When the man turned to agree with the comment, he was puzzled to find that he was suddenly alone. Oh well, time to go back inside for another drink.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.

"Hey, Angela. What are you looking at?" Hodgins asked as he approached his former fiancee standing at the front door looking out the window.

"Look...over there," she said, with a happy grin.

"Is that...who I think that is...? Wow!" he asked in response to her nod as a grin of his own appeared. "Come on, Angela. Quit gawking. You can wring out the details from them later. They're starting another set of dancing and I intend to claim this dance with you."

"Oh, you do, do you?" she said, giving him a "yeah, you and whose army" kind of look before changing her mind to replace it with a brilliant smile. She placed her hand in his and let him lead her back to the dance floor.

THE END

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A/N: I like leaving situations in a "happily ever after" moment regardless of what could happen "after". Thanks for reading.

Marte


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